
F*i .-*-•''• ■ ' ' V-^ "-"^"^ y^'l^ 




k-^$^' ■• 
■.♦'«■•.■ 


















■--^ ^ '^ ^^ >^^y^ ^:) -^Si -^ >rr 















3 >^» 






TO 

33:) 



>3 :)> 












^ IB 


ifi 


>n 


I 


"-^:iai 


■ 


^2>^. 


>5 


> 


■^ 


j> > 


'Oj 


^ V=3 




■> ->, 




>>■- . s>. 




I), " - 


■)• 


^ 


')• 


).)!>> 


> 


1>. 


1> 


> 


-) 


> 


~> 


o 


3 


••> 


► ") 


^■> 












LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

%F. --:, ©op^rig^ :f n 

Shelf .M 3 .W 3 ^ 



— ^ — U?8 

UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 






^^5 

^ P 5 


















■ ^3>3 % -4 ii.^ " ' 



^ ^- ->^> i?D 















► J) ) 

3 :> 

? ^ 















2^ 









^ ""O >> 

1>^ : 



of 

> ->> : 









3^2)):) »>.^ 






^>^.^ >1^ 



->>T3K)-^V 



3») 



^ 3>^dds 












it 






s -., 



PRICE 20 CENTS. 




'v » A. » A. 'r /v » A. » A. * ^ » i'S. ^ ,'S. * A. » /S.v/^ T /', » yk ^ i 



\ '* ^ ^ r^ ^ / ' ^ w A^ ^ ^ * /^ ^ /\ ^ /\ W f-. n /^ w /< 9 /\ w j^ w /. 9 r. W M 



THE GREAT IlON'DON SUCCESS! 

VICE VERSA; 



A Lesson to Fathers. 



By F. ANSTEY. 

— ^— .\-'bW5 

PRICES. )%%t ■ 

No. 30. Lovell's Library, 13mo., large type, neat paper cover, - .20 
1 vol., 12mo., clotli, gilt, - - .50 



VAJYITY FAIE. 

"This book (' Vice Versa ') is, in our opinion, the drollest v/ork ever written m the 
jfeglis-h language.'' - , 

ACADEMY. 

" It is certainly the best hook o,f its kind that has appeared for a lonj; time ; and in the 
way of provoking laughter by certain old-fashioned means, which do not involve satiro or 
sarcasm, it has few rivals." 

ATHENJEUM. 

" The whole story is told with delightful drollery and spirit, and there is not a dull page 
in the volume. It should be added that Mr. Anstey writes well, and in a style tidmirably 
suited to his amusing subject." 

COUBT JOURNAL. 

"The story is told with so much wit and gayety that we can not be deceived in our 
impression of the future career of F., Anstey her^g destined to attain the greatest success 
among the most popular authors of the day. " * 

NOTES AND qUEEIES. 

' "This is a thoroughly laughable book, and in days when most authors, like the poet of 
Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes's verses, seem fo shrink from ' writing as funny as they can,' it 
richly deserves the exceptional welcome due to an exceptional effpri." 

;^ . WORLD. ' 

" The idea bf a father and son exchanging their identity has suggested itself to many 
minds before now. It is illustrated in this book with surprising freshness, originalityj and 
force. . . . "The book is more than wildly comic and amusing; it is, in parts, exceedmgly 
pathetic." ^ 

8 A TURD A Y REVIEW. 

" If there ever was a book made up from beginning to end of laughter, "yet not a comic 
book, or a ' merry ' book, or a book ©f jokes, or a book of pictures, or a jest book, or a tom- 
fool-book, but a perfectly sober and serious book, in a reading of which a sober man may 
Jaugh without shame from beginning to end, it is the new, book called 'Vice Versa ; or, a 
Lesson to Fathers.' . , . We close the book, recommending it very eamestlv, to all 
fathers, in the first instance, and their sons, nephews, uncles, and male cousins next." 



JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 14 & 16 Vesey Street, New York. 



N 



^ OopTkight 1882, BY The John W. Loybll Company. 






^iJ;^#«^Si;^Sg^? ' jgH<^;a«gg^^ 





'^"" "^Jj^ ^lAV^ 








Ha»B:»t>yi^iig*):i 



DEVOTED TO. THL BEST CURRENT & STANDARD LITERATURE. 



Vol. 2, No. 36. Oct. 10, 1882. 



Annual Subscription, 52 Numbers, $8.00i 



PREFACE. 



** THAT mine enemy would write a book!"* — This 
in former times, passed for as sore an evil as a good man 
could think of wishing to his worst enemy. — Whether 
any of my enemies ever wished me so great an evil, I 
know not. But certain it is, I never dreamed of such a 
thing as writing a book ; and least of all a war book. 
What, I ! a man here under the frozen zone and grand 
climacteric of my days, with one foot in the grave and 
the other hard by, to quit my prayer book and crutches, 
(an old man's best companion.) and drawing my sword, 
flourish and fight over again the battles of my youth. 

The Lord forbid me such madness ! But what can 
one do when one's friends are eternally teasing him, as 
they are me, and calling out at every whipstitch and cor- 
ner of the streets, " Well, but sir, where s Marion ; where s 
the history of Marion, that we have so long been looking 
for?'' 

'Tvvas in vain that I told them I was no scholar ; no 
historian, " God," said I, *' gentlemen, has made ' many 
men of many minds ' ; one for this thing and another for 
that. But I am morally certain he never made me for a 
writer. I did indeed once understand something about 
the use of a broadsword ; but as to a pen, gentlemen, 



. PREFACE. 

that's quite another part of speech. The difference be- 
tween a broadsword and a pen, gentlemen, is prodigious ; 
and it is not every officer, let me tell you, gentlemen, who 
can, like Caesar, fight you a great battle with his sword to- 
day, and fight it over again with his pen to-morrow." ^'Btcrn 
Ccesaer'' replied they, '' and his book too. If it were written 
in letters of gold, we would not read it. What have hon- 
est republicans like us to to do with such an ambitious 
cut-throat and robber } Besides sir, your reasoning 
about scholarshio, and fine style, and all that, does not, 
begging your pardon, apply at all to the case in hand. 
Small subjects nideed, require great writers to set them 
off ; but great subjects require no such artificial helps : 
like true beauties, they shine most in the simplest dress. 
Marion is one of this sort : great in his simplicity. Then 
give us Marion — plain, brave, honest Marion ; that's all 
we want, sir. And you can do this better than any other 
man. You have known him longest ; have fought close- 
est by his side ; and can best tell us of his noble deeds. 
And surely now, after all, you can't bear to let him die, 
and all his great actions, and be forgotten forever." 

This, I confess, went to the quick, and roused me 
completely. " What I Marion forgotten V I exclaimed, 
^^ Marion forgotten! and by me f' No, neVer! never! while 
memory looks back on the dreadful days of the revolution; 
when a British despot, not the nation, (for I esteem 
them most generous,) but a protcd, stnpid, obstinate des- 
tot, trampling the holy charter and constitution of 
England's realm, issued against us,(sons of Britons,) that 
most unrighteous edict, taxation Without representation I 
and then, because in the spirit of our gallant fathers, we 



PREFACE. t 

bravely opposed him, he broke up the very fountains of his 
malice, and let loose upon us every indescribable, unim- 
aginable curse of civil waf ; when British armies, with 
their Hessian, and Indian, and tory allies, overran my af- 
flicted country, swallowing up its fruits and filling every 
part with consternation ; when nothing was to be seen but 
flying crowds, burning houses, and young men, (alas ! 
too often,) hanging upon the trees like dogs, and old 
men wringing their withered hands over their murdered 
boys, and women and children weeping and flying from 
their ruined plantations into the starving woods ! When 
I think, I say, of these things, oh my God ! how can I 
ever forget Marion, that vigilant, undaunted soldier, 
whom thy own mercy raised up to scourge such mons- 
ters, and avenge his country's wrongs. 

The Washington of the South, he steadily pursued 
the warfare most j-^^ for //i-, and most fatal to our enemy. 
He taught us to sleep in the swamps, to feed on roots, 
to drink the turbid waters of the ditch, to prowl nightly 
round the encampments of the foe, like lions round the 
habitations of the shepherds who had slaughtered their 
cubs. Sometimes he taught us to fall upon the enemy 
by surprise, distracting the midnight hour with the hor- 
rors of our battle : at other times, when our forces were 
increased, he led us on boldly to the charge, hewing the 
enemy to pieces, under the approving light of day. Oh, 
Marion, my friend ! my friend ! never can I forget thee. 
Although thy wars are all ended, and thyself at rest in 
the grave, yet I see thee still. I see thee as thou wert 
wont to ride, most terrible in battle to the enemies of thy 
country. Thine eyes like balls of fire, flamed beneath 



6 PREFACE, 

thy lowering brows. But lovely still wert thou in mercy, 
thou bravest among the sons of men ! For, soon as the 
enemy, smking under our swords, cried for quarter, thy 
heart swelled with commiseration, and thy countenance 
was changed, even as the countenance of a man who be- 
held the slaughter of his brothers. The basest tory who 
could but touch the hem of thy garment was safe. The 
avengers of blood stopped short in thy presence, and 
turned away abashed from the lightning of thine eyes. 

O that my pen were of the quill of the swan that 
sings for future days ! then shouldst thou, my friend, 
receive the fulness of thy fame. The fathers, of the 
years to come, should talk of thy noble deeds ; and the 
youth yet unborn should rise up and call thee blessed. 
Fired at the charm of thy virtues, they should follow thee 
in the path of thy glory, and make themselves the fu- 
ture Marions of their country. 

PETER HORRY 



THE LIFE OF 

GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 



CHAPTER I. 



Short sketch of an extraordinary French couple, viz, the grandfather and 
mother of our hero — their early and happy loves — cruel persecution of 
the priests — final expulsion from their native country — providential set- 
tlement in South Carolina — their prosperous and exemplary lives — sing- 
ular will of old Marion — and birth of his grandson, Francis, 

Immortal may their memory be 
Who fought and bled for liberty. 

One thousand seven hundred and thirty two was a 
glorious year for America. It gave birth to two of the 
noblest thunderbolts of her wars, George Washington 
and Francis Marion. The latter was born in St. John's 
parish, South Carolina. His father also was a Caroli- 
nian, but his grandfather was a Huguenot or French 
Protestant, who lived near Rochelle, in the blind and 
bigoted days of Louis XIV. 

The priests, who are the persecutors in all countries 
except America, could not bear that he should worship 



8 THE LIFE OF 

God in his own way, or dream of going to heaven but 
in their leading strings, and therefore soon gave him to 
understand, that he must either " recant or trot ; " that 
is, quit his heresy or his country. 

Too brave to play the hypocrite, and too wise to 
hope for happiness with a ** wounded spirit," he quickly 
made up his mind, and, like faithful Abraham, forsook 
his country, to wander an exile in lands unknown. The 
angel who guides the footsteps of the virtuous, directed 
his course to South Carolina ; and as a reward for his 
piety, placed him in a land where mighty deeds and 
honors were ripening for his grandson. Nor did he 
wander alone. A cherub, in the form of a lovely wife, 
followed his fortunes, and gave him to know, from happy 
experience, that where love is, there is no exile. 

Previous to his expulsion, the priests had, for some 
time, suspected young Marion of what they called 
"heresy." But, learning that he was enamoured of the 
beautiful and accomplished mademoiselle Louisa D' 
Aubrey, and like to win her affections, they withheld for 
a while, their sacred thunders, hoping, that through fear 
of them, and love of her, he might yet return to the 
bosom of the Catholic Church, to which she belonged. 

Young Marion's suit to his fair mistress, was for- 
tunate to the full extent of an ardent lover's wishes. 
The charming girl repaid his passion with such liberal 
interest, that, in a short time after the commencement 
of their delicious friendship, she received him for her 
husband, in spite of all that wealthier wooers could 
promise, or frowning friends could threaten. 

The neighboring clergy now marked the conduct of 



gen: FRANCIS MARION. ^ 

Marion with a keener eye ; and discovering in him no 
symptoms that pointed to recantation, they furiously 
pressed the bishop to enforce against him the edict of 
banishment. 

At this time Marion, with his lovely Louisa, was 
living on a small farm in the vicinity of Rochelle. As he 
walked one afternoon in the main street of that city, he 
was very rudely accosted by a couple of officers of the 
holy inquisition, whose looks and dress were as dark and 
diabolical as their employment. 

** Voiis etes nommes Mario7i ? " said they ; that is, 
"your name is Marion .'*" 

"Yes, gentlemen, that is my name." 

Upon this, they rudely thrust a letter into his hand, 
and turned away, but with such looks as tigers throw at 
a tender lambkin, whose well-guarded fold forbids their 
access. On opening the letter he found as follows : 

" Your damnable heresy, well deserves, even in this 
life, that purgation by fire which awfully awaits it in the 
next. But, in consideration of your youth and worthy 
connections, our mercy has condescended to commute 
your punishment to perpetual exile. — You will, therefore, 
instantly prepare to quit your country forever. For, if 
after ten days from the date hereof, you should be found 
in any part of the kingdom, your miserable body shall 
be consumed by fire, and your impious ashes scattered 
on the winds of heaven. 

" Pere Rochelle." * 

* I forewarn all my friends from thinking me capable of charging this 
vile, persecuting spirit on the " Old W — e of Ro7ne,^^ exclusively. No 
thank God, I have not so learned human nature. And they who are yet 



ro TfT^ LIFk OP' 

Had this dreadful letter been presented to Marion 
even while a bachelor, it would have filled him with 
horror ; for the heart naturally cleaves to the spot where 
it awoke into being, and quits with tearful eyes, the 
scenes among which were spent the first and happiest 
days of life. But ties stronger than those of nature bound 
Marion to his country. His country was the country of 
his Louisa. How could he live without her ? And how 
could he hope that she would ever consent to leave hei* 
parents and friends to wander and die with him in hope- 
less exile ? 

But though greatly dejected, yet he did not despair. 
He still trusted in that parent-power who smiles even 
under frowns, and often pours his richest showers from 
the blackest clouds. Cheered with this hope, he put 
the letter into his pocket, and set out to seek his Louisa. 

With arms fondly interlocked, she had accompanied 
him that morning to the gate at the back of the garden, 
through which he generally passed when he went to 
Rochelle. Soon as his horse was led up, and he about 
to mount, she snatched the bridle, and laughing, vowed 
he should not go until he had promised her one thing. 

'' Well, charmer, what's that .? " 

to learn, may, by reading the " Catholic Layman," soon get satisfied, that 
the priests are as apt to abuse power as the people, and that, when " clad 
with a little brief authority,"prot2stants as well as papists, have committed 
those cruelties which make milder devils blush. [By way of a note on a 
note, I would observe, that the " Catholic Layman, " is a very sensible 
and spirited pamphlet; the production, it is said, of Mathew Carey, Esq., 
of Philadelphia, who though a Roman Catholic, has printed more prot- 
estant Bibles and Testaments than half the preachers and printers in 
America put together.J 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



II 



"Why that you will return very soon." 
" Well, indeed I will ; so now let me go." 
" Oh no ! I am afraid that when you get out of sight 
you will play truant. You must give me security." 
"Well, Louisa, what security shall I give you.?" 
"Why you must give me that thing, whatever it be, 
that you hold most dear in all the world." 

" Well done ! and now, Louisa, I give you yourself, 
the dearest thing God ever gave me in all this world." 

At this her fine face reddened all over with blushing 
joy, while her love-sparkling eyes, beaming on his, awak- 
ened that transport which those who have felt it would 
not exchange for worlds. Then after the fond, lengthened 
kiss, and tender sigh of happy lovers parting, he rode off. 
Soon as he was out of her sight, she turned to go to 
the house. As she passed along the garden, the sudden 
fancy struck her to adorn the summer-house with ever- 
greens and flowers of the liveliest tints, and there, 
amidst a wilderness of sweets, to receive her returning 
lover. Animated with this fond suggestion of conjugal 
affection, (woman's true life,) which at every quickened 
pulse diffused an answering rapture through the virtuous 
breast, she commenced her pleasing task ; and with her 
task she mingled the music of her voice, clear and strong 
as the morning lark, and sweet as from a heart full of inno- 
cence and love. The pleasant sounds reached the ear of 
Marion, as he drew near the garden. Then, entering the 
gate without noise, he walked up, unperceived, close to 
her as she sat all alone in the arbor, binding her fragrant 
flowers and singing the happy hours away. She was 
singirtg her favorite hymn, by madam Guion. 



12 THE LIFE OF 

" That love I sing, that wondrous love 
Which waked my sleeping clay ; 
That spread the sky in azure bright, 
And poured the golden day," etc. etc. 

To see youth and beauty, though in a stranger, thus 
pointing to heaven, is delightful to a pious heart. Then 
what rapture to an enlightened soul to see a beloved wife 
thus communing with God, and becoming every day 
more and more angelic ! 

Soon as her song was finished, he called out, 
" Louisa ! " 

Startled at the sudden call, she turned around. to the 
well-known voice, presenting a face on which love and 
sweet surprise had spread those rosy, charms, which in 
a moment banished all his sorrows. " My dearest Ga- 
briel," she exclaimed, dropping her flowers, and running 
and throwing herself into his arms, " here, take back 
your security ! take back your security ! and also my 
thanks for being such a man of honor. But what 
brought you back, love, so much earlier than you ex- 
pected .'* " 

Here the memory of that fatal letter went like a 
dagger to his heart, bleaching his manly cheeks. 

He would have evaded the question ; but in vain, for 
Louisa, startled at the sudden paleness of his looks, in- 
sisted the more earnestly to know the cause. 

He delayed a moment, but conscious that the secret 
must soon come out, he took the letter from his pocket, 
and with a reluctant hand put it into hers. 

Scarcely had she "run through it, which she did with 
the most devouring haste, when she let it drop from her 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 13 

hands, and faintly articulating, " Ah, cruel priest ! " she 
fell upon his bosom, which she bathed with her tears. 

After some moments of distress too big for utterance, 
Marion, deeply sighing, at length broke silence. 

'* Ah, Louisa ! and must we part so soon !" 

At this, starting up with eyes suffused with tears 
but beaming immortal love, she hastily replied — " Part ! " 

" Yes ! " continued he, " part ! for ever part ! " 

" No, Marion, no ! never ! never ! " 

" Ah ! can you, Louisa, leave father and mother, and 
follow a poor banished husband like me .-* " 

" Yes — yes — father, mother, and all the world will I 
leave to follow thee, Marion ! " 

" O blessed priest, I thank you ! Good Bishop Ro- 
chelle, holy father in God, I thank you — your perse- 
cution has enriched me above princes. It has discovered 
to me a mine of love in Louisa's soul, that I never 
dreamed of before ! " 

'* My dearest Gabriel, did you ever doubt my love ! " 

" Pardon me, my love, I never doubted your love, 
Oh no ! I knew you loved me. The circumstances under 
which you married me gave me delicious proof of that. 
To have preferred me to so many wealthier wooers — to 
have taken me as a husband to the paradise of your 
arms, when so many others would have sent me as a 
heretic to the purgatory of the inquisition, was evidence 
of love never to be forgotten ; but that in addition to all 
this you should now be so ready to leave father and 
mother, country and kin, to follow me, a poor wanderer 
in the earth, without even a place where to lay my 
head " 



14 THE LIFE OF 

" Yes, yes," replied she, eagerly interrupting him, 
" that's the very reason I would leave all to follow you. 
For, oh my love ! how could I enjoy father or mohter- 
country or kin, and you a wanderer in the earth, with- 
out a place whereon to lay your head ! That single 
thought would cover my days with darkness, and drive 
me *to distraction. But give me your company, my 
Gabriel, and then welcome that foreign land with all its 
shady forests ! Welcome the thatched cottage and the 
little garden filled with the fruits of our own fondly 
mingled toils ! Metbinks, my love, I already see that 
distant sun rising with gladsome beams on our dew- 
spangled flowers. I hear the wild wood-birds pouring 
their sprightly carols on the sweet-scented morning. 
My heart leaps with joy to their songs. Then, O my 
husband ! if we must go, let us go without a sigh. God. 
can order it for our good. And, on my account, you 
shall cc*st no lingerii^g look behind. I am ready to fol- 
low you wherever you go. Your God shall be my God. 
Where you live I will live, and where you die, there 
will I die, and will be buried by your side. Nothing my 
beloved, but death, shall ever part me from you." 

" Angelic Louisa ! " cried Marion, snatching her to 
his bosom in transport. " Wondrous woman ! what do 
I not owe to God, ever blessed, for such a comforter ! 
I came just now from Rochelle with the load of a moun- 
tain on my heart. You have taken off that mountain, 
and substituted a joy most lightsome and heavenly. 
Like a ministering angel, you have confirmed me in 
duty ; you have ended my struggles — and by so cheer- 
fully offering to forsake all and follow me, you have dis« 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 15 

played a love, dear Louisa, which will, I trust, render 
you next to my God, the eternal complacency and 
delight of my soul." 

In the midst of this tender scene, a servant came 
running to inform Louisa that her mother, madame 
D' Aubrey, had just arrived, and was coming to her in 
the garden. This startled our lovers into a painful 
expectation of another trial. For as Louisa was an 
only daughter, and her parents doatingly fond of her, 
it was not to be imagined that they would give her up 
without a hard struggle. Seeing the old lady com- 
ing down the walk towards them, they endeavored 
to adjust their looks, and to meet her with the wont<&d 
smile. But in vain. The tumult in their bosoms was 
still too visible in their looks to escape her discernment. 
She eagerly asked the cause. Their changing counte- 
nances served but to increase her fears and the vehe- 
mence of her curiosity. The bishop's letter was put into 
her hands. Its effect on the good old lady were truly 
distressing. Not having, like her daughter, the vigor of 
youth, nor the fervors of love to support her, she was 
almost overcome. 

Soon as her spirits were a little recovered, she in- 
sisted that her daughter and son-in-law should instantly 
step into her coach and go home with her. " Your 
father, my dear," said she to Louisa, '* your father, 
monsieur D' Aubrey, will, I am certain, do something 
for us. 

But in this she was wofully mistaken, for monsieur 
D' Aubrey was ene of that blind sort who place all their 
religion in forms and notions. He could smile and look 



t6 THE LIFE OF 

very fond upon a man, though not over moral, pro- 
vided that man went to his church — praised his preacher 
and opinions, and abused everybody else ; but would 
look very sour on the best man on earth who differed 
from him in those things. In short, he was destitute 
of love, the sole life of religion. And though on account 
of his wife's importunities and his daughter's repose, 
he had consented to her marriage with Marion, yet he 
nev^er liked the young heretic, and therefore he read the 
order of his banishment without any burst of grief, and 
made no effort to revoke the decrees of the church 
against him, but abandoned him to his fate. 

Such insensibility to her husband's interest dis- 
tressed poor Louisa exceedingly. However, it had this 
good effect : it contributed greatly to lessen her regret 
at parting with her parents. 

" O had they but loved me as you do, my Marion," 
said she,. '' could they have been so indifferent when my 
ail was at stake.'' No, indeed," continued she, "they 
could not," and burst into tears. 

•* Dearest Louisa ! " replied he, tenderly embracing 
her, " would not I leave father and mother and all for 
you } " 

" Well," returned she, with eyes of love, outshining 
all diamonds, " and am I not going to leave all for you t 
Yet a few days and I shall have no father, nor mother, 
no country ; cut off from all the world but you, Marion 
alas what will become of me if you should prove cruel 
to me T 

" Cruel ! cruel to you, Louisa ! O my God, can that 
ever be ? " 



GEN. FRANCIS MARIOiV. 



17 



" Ah Marion ! but some excellent women have left 
father and mother, and followed their husbands ; and/ 
yet, after all have been cruelly neglected by them !" 

" Yes, Louisa ; and God forgive them for that hor- 
rid crime ! But to me such a deed were utterly impos- 
sible. I live for happiness, Louisa, I live for happiness, 
my angel. And I find so much happiness in loving, 
that I would as soon cease to live as cease to love. 
Some indeed, sordid celibates for example, seem to exist 
without love ! but it is only a seeming existence, most 
joyless and imperfect. And they bear the dulness of 
apathy the better, because they have never knOvvn the 
transports of affection. But with me, my charmer, the 
case is happily different ; for at the moment I first saw 
those angel eyes, they infused a sweetness into my heart 
unknown before. And those delicious sparks, fanned 
by your loves and graces, have now risen to such a 
flame of bliss, that methinks, were it to go out, my life 
would go out with it, Then, my first and last, and 
only sweetheart, I pray you, do not fear that I shall ever 
cease to love you : for indeed that can never be while 
you continue even half as lovely as you are at present." 

" Well then, Marion," replied she, fondly pressing 
his ruddy cheeks to her heaving bosom, " if it depends 
on me, on my constant affection and studiousness to 
please, you shall never love me less ; but more and 
more every day of your life." 

The next morning, accompanied by madame 
D' Aubrey, Marion and Louisa returned home in order 
to make the best preparation, which the shortness of 
the time would allow, to quit their country forever. 



iS THE LIFM OP 

In choosing his place of exile, it has been said that 
Marion's thoughts were at first turned towards the 
West Indies. But it would appear that Heaven had 
decreed for him a different direction. For scarcely 
had he reached his home, much agitated about the 
means of getting off in time, before a letter was brought 
him from an intimate friend in Rochelle, informing him 
that a large ship, chartered for the Carolinas, by several 
wealthy Huguenot families, was then lying at anchor 
under the Isle de Rhee. Gratefully regarding this as a 
beckoning from heaven, they at once commenced their 
work, and prosecuted it with such spirit, that on the 
evening of the ninth day they embraced their weeping 
friends and went on board the ship. 

It is said that many of the most respectable families 
of Carolma — the Gourdines, Hugers, Trapiers Postells, 
Horrys, etc. came ever in the same ship. 

The next day, the clouds began to bank the eastern 
sky,- and the winds to whistle froTii the hills. Pleased 
with the darkly rippling waters, the ready ship got 
home her anchors and loosed her sails. Then wheel- 
ing before the freshening gale, she bade adieu to her 
native shores, and on wings of wide-spread canvas 
commenced her foaming course for the western world. 

But though mutual love and confidence in heaven 
were strong in the bosom of young Marion and his 
Louisa, yet could they not suppress the workings of 
nature, which would indulge her sorrows when looking 
back on the lessening shores ; they beheld dwindled to 
a point and trembling in the misty sky, that "glorious 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 19 

land, at once their own cradle and the sepulchre of 
their fathers. 

Some natural tears they shed, but wiped them soom 
for the earth was all before them where to choose their 
place of rest ; and Providence their guide. 

But Marion and Louisa did not leave their coun- 
try empty-handed. Her parents, 'tis supposed, gave 
Louisa money, but what sum, after this long lapse of 
time is uncertain. Nor does tradition say for how much 
Marion sold his little farm. But it is well known that on 
their arrival in Carolina, they went up into the countryi 
and bought a plantation on Goose creek, near Charles- 
ton, where their dust now sleeps, after a long life en- 
deared by mutual love, and surrounded by every com- 
fort that industry and prudence can bestow. 

We have said that Marion left his country for the 
sake of his religion : which appears to have been of 
that cheerful sort for which a wise man would make 
any sacrifice. It was the religion of the gospel, that 
blessed philosophy which asks not a face of gloom, but 
a heart of joy. And thereunto enjoin a supreme love 
of God, and a close walk with him in a pure and benev- 
olent life. From this, genuine spring- of all the sweet- 
est charities and joys of life, Marion derived that cheer- 
fulness which appears never to have failed him. Even 
in his last will, where most men fancy they ought to be 
gloomy as the grave whither they are going, his cheer- 
fulness continued to shine with undiminished lustre. 
It was like the setting of a cloudless sun : which after 
pouring its fattening beams on the fields of a livelong 
summer's day, goes down in smiles to rise a brighter 



/ 



20 THE LIFE OF 

beauty on another day. This will is certainly an amia 
ble curiosity, and as it may be of service to the reader, 
by showing him how free and easy a good life makes a 
man with death, I will record it : at least the principal 
features of it, as I got them from the family. 

After having, in the good old way, bequeathed " his 
soul to God who gave it," and ** his body to the earth 
out of which it was taken," he proceeds in the manner 
following : 

In the first place, as to debts, thank God, I owe 
none. And therefore shall give my executors but little 
trouble on that score. 

Secondly — As to the poor, I have always treated 
them as my brethren. My dear family will, I know, 
follow my example. 

Thirdly — As to the wealth with which God has 
been pleased to bless me and my dear Louisa and chil- 
dren, lovingly we have labored together for it — lovingly 
we have enjoyed it— and now, with a glad and grateful 
heart do I leave it among them. 

He then proceeds to the distribution. Liberally to 
his children : but far more so to his wife — and at the 
end of each bequest assigns his reasons, viz, 
I give my beloved Louisa all my ready money — that she 
may never be alarmed at a sudden call. 
I give her all my fat calves and lambs, my pigs and 
poultry — thatshe may always keep a good table. 
I give her my new carriage and horses — that she may 

visit her friends in comfort. 
I give her my family bible — that she may live above 
the ill-tempers and sorrows of life, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2 i 

I give my son Peter a hornbook — for I am afraid he 

will always be a dunce." 

But Peter was so stun^ with this little squib, that he in- 
stantly quit his raccoon hunting by nights, and betook 
himself to reading, and soon became a very sensible and 
charming young man. 

His eldest son, who, after his father, was named Ga- 
briel, married a Miss Charlotte Corde, by whom he had 
six children — Esther, Gabriel, Isaac, Benjamin, Job, 
and our hero Francis, the least as well as the last of the 
family. As to his sister Esther, I have never heard what 
became of her ; but for his four brothers, I am happy to 
state, that though not formidable as soldiers, they were 
very amiable as citizens. They bought farms — proved 
their oxen — married wives — multiplied good children, and 
thus, very unlike our niggardly bachelors, contributed a 
liberal and laudable part to the population, strength, and 
glory of their country. God, I pray heartily, take kind 
notice of all such ; and grant, that having thus done His 
will in this world, they may partake of His glory in the 
next. 



22 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER 11. 

Marion's first appearance — an humble cultivator of the earth — -.the great 
Cherokee war of 1761 comes on — volunteers his services to his country 
— is appointed at first lieutenant in the provincial line — commands a for- 
lorn hope — narrowly escapes with his life — the Anglo-American and the 
Indian forces engaged — bloody battle — the Indians defeated — their coun-* 
try laid waste — peace made — Marion retires. 

Among the Mohawks of Sparta, it was a constant 
practice on the birth of a male infant, to set a miUtary 
granny to examine him, as a butcher would a veal for the 
market, and if he were found anyways puny, ne was pres- 
ently thrown into a horse pond with as little ceremony 
as a blind puppy. Had such been the order of the day 
in 1732, Carolina would never have boasted a Marion; 
for I have it from good authoiity, that this great soldier, 
at his birth, was not larger than a New England lobster, 
and might easily enough have been put into a quart pot. 
This puny appearance continued with him till the age 
of twelve, when it was removed by the following extra- 
ordinary providence. 

On a trip to the West Indies, which his friends put 
him upon for his health's sake, the little schooner in which 
he was embarked was suddenly attacked by some mon- 
strous fish, probably a thorn-back whale, who gave it 
such a terrible stroke with his tail as started a plank 
The frightened crew flew to their pumps, but in vain ; 
for the briny flood rushed with such fury into their vessel, 



G^N. FRANCIS MARION". 23 

that they were glad to quit her and tumble as fast as 
they could into their little jolly boat. The event showed 
that it was but a leap ** out of the frying pan into the 
lire ;" for their schooner went down so suddenly as not 
to give them time to take a mouthful of food with them, 
not even so much as a brown biscuit or a pint of water. 
After three wretched days of feverish hunger and thirst, 
they agreed to kill a little cabin dog who had swam to 
them from the schooner just before she sunk. On his 
raw flesh they feasted without restraint ; but the blood 
they preserved with more economy, to cool their parched 
lips. In a few days, however, their own blood, for lack 
of cooling food, became so fiery hot as to scald their 
brain to frenzy. About the tenth day the captain and 
mate leaped overboard, raving mad ; and the day follow- 
ing the two remaining seamen expired in the bottom of 
the boat, piteously crying to the last for water \ lOaterX 
God of his mercy forgive me, who have so often drank 
of that sweet beverage without grateful acknowledgment. 
Scarcely was this melancholy scene concluded before a 
vessel hove in sight, standing directly for the boat, as if 
purposely sent to save the child that was tossing in it 
on the gloomy waves. 

Little Marion was so weak that he could not stir 
hand or foot to climb up the side of the vessel. The 
captain, however soon had him on board ; and by means 
of chocolate and turtle broth, sparingly given him at 
first, recruited him so fast, that, by the time he reached 
his native shores, he was in much better health than 
ever. So that on his return to his friends, it was found, 
as is often the case, that what was at first looked on as 



24 



THE LIFE OF 



a great misfortune, bad proved a very noble blessing. 
His constitution seemed renewed, his frame commenced 
second and rapid growth ; while his cheeks, quitting 
their pale, suet-colored cast, assumed a bright and heal- 
thy olive. According to the best accounts that I have 
been able to procure, Marion never thought of another 
trip to sea, but continued in his native parish, in that 
most independent and happy of all callings, a cultivator 
of the earth, till his twenty-seventh year. 

A report then prevailing that the Cherokee Indians 
were murdering the frontier settlers, Marion turned out 
with his rifle, as a volunteer under Governor Lytleton. 
The affair, however proved to be a mere flash in the pan : 
for the Cherokees finding that things were not exactly 
in the train they wished, sent on a deputation with their 
wampum belts and peace-talks to bury the hatchet and 
brighten the old chain of friendship with the whites ; and 
the good-natured governor, thinking them sincere, con- 
cluded a treaty with them. The troops of course were 
dismissed, and Marion returned to his plantation. 

Scarcely, however, had two years elapsed, before the 
perfidious Chei;okees broke out again in a fresh place, 
killing and driving the defenceless inhabitants at a most 
barbarous rate. Marion instantly flew again to the gov- 
ernor with the tender of his services to fight for his af- 
flicted countrymen. His excellency was so pleased with 
this second instance of Marion's patriotism, that he gave 
him a first lieutenancy in the provincial line under the 
brave Captain William Moultrie. The reported force and 
fury of the Indians struck such a terror through the col- 
ony, that Colonel Grant ( of the British ) with twelve 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



25 



hundred regulars, was ordered out on forced march tc 
succor the bleeding frontiers. 

On their way they were joined at Ninty-six, May 14, 
1 76 1, by twelve hundred provincials, all men of surest 
aim with the deadly rifle. 

To draw off the enemy from their murderous excur- 
sions, Col. Grant wisely determined to push the war at 
once into their own country ; which was no sooner dis- 
covered by them, than they instantly collected their 
whole force to oppose to him. The only passage into their 
country was through a dark defile or gap in the mountain, 
which it was resolved should be forced as rapidly as pos- 
sible. A forlorn of thirty brave fellows were ordered 
to explore the dangerous pass : and Marion, though but a 
young lieutenant had the honor to be appointed their 
leader. At the head of his command he advanced with 
rapidity, while the army moved ont o support him. But 
scarcely had they entered the gloomy defile, when, from 
behind the rocks and trees, a sheet of fire suddenly blazed 
forth, which killed twenty-one of his men ! With the 
remainder, he faced about and pushed back with all 
speed ; whereupon great numbers of tall savages, fright- 
fully painted, rushed from their lurking-places, and with 
hideous yells and uplifted tomahawks, pursued and gained 
upon them so fast that nothing but the nearness of the 
advanced guard saved them from destruction. The 
Anglo-American army then prepared themselves for a 
serious and bloody conflict. 

An enemy in such force, so well posted, and defend- 
ing the only pass in their country, would^ they well knew, 
fight desperately. And well aware, also what slaughter 



26 THE LIFE OF 

would follow Upon their own defeat, they determined to 
yield the victory only with their lives. A long sum- 
mer's day was before them, for the sun had just risen 
above the hills, a bright spectator of the coming fight. 
Then in high spirits, with justice on their side, and an 
approving conscience, they cheerfully left the event to 
Heaven. The British were formed in small corps, the 
more promptly to support the riflemen, who led the van, 
and now with wide extended wings began to move. In 
a little time they came in sight of the enemy, who ap- 
peared flying backwards and forwards, as if not well 
satisfied with their ground. The provincial marksmen 
then rapidly advancing, flew each to his tree, and the 
action began. From wing to wing, quite across the defile, 
the woods appeared as if all on fire ; while the incessant 
crash of small arms tortured the ear like claps of sharp- 
est thunder. The muskets of the British, like their na- 
tive bull-dogs, kept up a dreadful roar, but scarcely did 
more than bark the trees, or cut off the branches above 
the heads of the Indians. While, with far less noise, 
the fatal rifles continued to lessen the numbers of the 
enemy. The action was kept up with great spirit for 
nearly two hours, during which the superiority of the Am- 
erican riflemen was very remarkably displayed-. For in 
that time they lost only fifty-one — whereas of the In- 
dians there fell one hundred and three, which so dis- 
heartened them that they fled and gave up their country 
to the conquerors, who prepared immediately to enter it. 
Colonel Grant had hoped to surprise their towns, but 
concluding that their swift-footed runners had given the 
alarm, he moved on in slow marches through the wilder- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 27 

ness toward the settlements, thinking that by the destruc- 
tion of their towns and cornfields he should drive them 
into a disposition for peace. 

Marion often spoke of this part of the war, as of a 
transaction which he remembered with sorrow. " We 
arrived," said he in a letter to a friend, " at the Indian 
towns in the month of July. As the lands were rich 
and the season had been favorable, the corn was bend- 
ing under the double weight of lusty roasting ears and 
pods of clustering beans. The furrows seemed to rejoice 
under their precious loads — the fields stood thick with 
bread. We encamped the first night in the woods, near 
the fields, where the whole army feasted on the young 
corn, which, with fat venison, made a most delicious 
treat. 

" The next morning we proceeded by order of Colo- 
nel Grant, to burn down the Indian's cabins. Some of 
our men seemed to enjoy this cruel work, laughing very 
heartily at the curling flames, as they mounted loud crack- 
ling over the tops of the huts. But to me it appeared a 
shocking sight. Poor creatures ! thought I, we surely 
need not grudge you such miserable habitations. But 
wnen we came, according to orders^ to cut down the 
fields of corn, I could scarcely, refrain from tears. For 
who could see the stalks that stood so stately with broad 
green leaves and gayly tasselled shocks, filled with sweet 
milky fluid and flour, the staff of life ; who, I say with- 
out grief, could see these sacred plants sinking under 
our swords with all their precious load, to wither and rot 
untasted in their mourning fields .-* 

" I saw everywhere around, the footsteps of the little 



28 THE LIFE OE 

Indian children, where they had lately played under the 
shade of their rustling corn. No doubt they had often 
looked up with joy to the swelHng shocks, and glad- 
dened when they thought of their abundant cakes for the 
coming winter. When we are gone, thought I, they 
will return, and peeping through the weeds with tear- 
ful eyes, will mark the ghastly ruin poured over their 
homes and happy fields, where they had so often played. 

'* ' Who did this 1 ' they will ask their mothers. 

" ' The white people did it ; ' the mothers reply ; ' the 
Christians did it ! ' 

" Thus for cursed Mammon's sake, the followers of 
Christ have sown the hellish tares of hatred in the 
bosoms even of pagan children." 

The reader will, however, with pleasure remember 
that these were the dark deeds chiefly of a kingly gov- 
ernment. A gloomy monarch, three thousand miles 
distant, and rolling in all the pomps and pleasures of 
three millions of dollars per annum, could hardly be sup- 
posed to know what was passing in the American wilds ; 
but Washidgton had known. With bleeding heart he 
had often beheld the red and white men mingling in 
bloody fight. The horrors of the cruel strife dwelt upon 
his troubled thoughts ; and soon as God gave him power, 
(as president of independent AMERICA,) he immediate- 
ly adopted that better system which he had learnt from 
the gospel. His successors, Adams, Jefferson, and Madi- 
son, have piously pursued his plan. In place of the toma- 
hawk, the plooiighshare is sent to the poor Indians— goods 
are furnished them at first cost — letters and morals are 
taught among their tribes — and the soul of humanity is 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



29 



rejoiced to seethe red and white men meet togetner like 
brothers. 

By this god-like policy, the United States have not 
only saved an immensity of blood and treasure, but are 
rapidly adding to the population and strength of the 
country. 

Now to return to Marion's letter. — "After burning 
twenty towns, and destroying thousands of corn-fields,* 
the army returned to Koev/ee, where the Little Carpen- 
ter, a Cherokee chief, met Colonel Grant and concluded 
a peace." The troops were then disbanded : and Marion 
returned to his plantation in St. John's parish, where, 
with a few well-fed slaves, he continued to till his paren- 
tal acres, occasionally amusing himself with his gun and 
fishing rod, of which he was alwa3^s very fond. 

* To this day the Indians cannot bear the name Colonel Grant ; and 
whenever they see a drove of horses destroying a cornfield, they call out 
"Grant! Grant!" 



3d THE LIFE OP' 



CHAPTER III. 

War between England and America — Marion appointed a captain in the 
Second South Carolina regiment — goes with the authoron the recruiting 
servaice — curious anecdote of Lieut, Charnock and Captain Johnson — 
some mellancholy and memorable relations. 

Marion continued to tread the peaceful and pleasant 
walks of life, as above, till the beginning of May, 1775^ 
when by a vessel direct from, Boston, news was brought 
of the gallant battle of Lexington. Instantly the whole 
town and country were in a flame for war, and the legis- 
lature being purposely convened, hastened to meet the 
wishes of the people, who were clamorous for raising two 
regiments for the service. 

On balloting for officers, Marion's ticket came out 
for a captaincy in the second regiment, under command 
of the brave William Moultrie. In a little time my name 
was called out as a captain, also, in the same regiment 
with Marion. This to me, was matter of great joy, as I 
had long courted the friendship of Marion. For thought 
he was neither handsome, nor witty, nor wealthy, yet he 
was universally beloved. The fairness of his character 
— his fondness for his relations — his humanity to his 
slaves — and his bravery in the Indian war, had made 
him the darling of the country. It is not, therefore, to 
be wondered at, that I should have taken a liking to 
Marion, but why he should have conceived such a par- 
tiality for me, that's the question. But it is no business 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 31 

of mine to solve it, However, very certain it is, that on 
the first moment of our acquaintance, there was something 
in his eyes and looks towards me which led me to think 
there must be truth in the old saying of " people's fall- 
ins: in love at first sisfht." And when it is consid- 
ered, that strong attachments generally spring from con- 
genialities, I must confess, that the warm and constant 
friendship of Marion has ever appeared to me exceed- 
ingly flattering. 

But to return to my narrative. Our commissions as 
captains, were soon made out, and signed by the coun- 
cil of safety, the 21st. of June. 1775, As we were a 
couple of flaming patriots, we could not bear to be idle 
a single moment — marching, fighting, killing, and taking 
prisoners, was all that we could think or talk of. But 
as all this fine sport could not be carried on without men , 
nor men to be had without recruiting ; recruiting, of 
course, appeared to be the first act and prologue of our 
play. 

" But what shall we do for money, Captain Marion } '' 
said I. 

" Why," replied he, " we must get it from the as- 
sembly." 

The assembly was accordingly applied to, but alas 1 
*' could not help us to a single dollar ! " 

I wonder whether posterity will ever muster faith 
to believe that the gray- heads of South Carolina, 
without a penny in pocket, ventured to war with Great 
Britain, the nation of the longest purse in Europe-'' 
Surely it was of Him who pitted young David with his 
maiden sliiig and pebbles against the giant Goliah. 



32 



THE LIFE OF 



But though the poverty of the legislature was enough 
to have thrown a damp, on spirits of ordinary heat, yet 
to a flaming zeal like ours, it only served as water on a 
fiery furnace, to make it blaze the fiercer. 

" Why truly, Horry ! " said Marion, " this looks un- 
promising, but we must not mind it my hero, I'll tell 
you what — if the assembly can't help us, we must e'en 
help ourselves ! So come ! let us try what we can doon 
our own credit." 

" With all my heart," I replied. 

So away went we to borrow money of our friends in 
Charleston ; I mean hard money. And hard money it 
was indeed. The gold and silver all appeared as if it 
had caught the instinct of water-witches, diving at the 
first flash of the war, to the bottom of misers' trunks 
and strong boxes. For two whole days, and with every 
effort we could make, we collected but the pitiful sum 
of one hundred dollars! However, fully resolved that 
nothing should stop us, we got our regimentals the next 
morning from the tailor's and having crammed our sad- 
dle-bags with some clean shirts, a stout luncheon of 
bread and cheese, and a bottle of brandy, we mounted, 
and with hearts as light as young lover's on a courting 
scheme, we dashed off to recruit our companies. Our 
course was towards Georgetown, Black River, and Great 
Pedee. Fortune seemed to smile on our enterprise ; for 
by the time we reached Pedee, we had enlisted thirty- 
seven men, proper tall fellows, to whom we gave fur- 
loughs of two days to settle their affairs, and meet us at 
the house of a Mr. Bass, tavern-keeper, with whom we 
lodged. I should have told the reader, that we had with 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 



Z2> 



US, a very spirited young fellow by the name of Charnock, 
who was my lieutenant. 

On the second day, a Captain Johnson of the militia, 
came to Bass's, and took Lieutenant Charnock aside, and 
after prattling a great deal to him about the " cursed 
hardship," as he was pleased to call it, " of kidnapping 
poor clodhoppers at this rate," he very cavalierly offered 
him a guinea for himself, and half joe apiece for Marion 
and me to let the recruits go. 

Never did a poor silly puppy more completely take 
the wrong sow by the ear, than did Mr. Captain John- 
son, in thus tampering with Lieutenant Charnock. For 
Charnock, though remarkably good natured and polite 
among men of honor, could not bear the least approach 
of any thing that looked like rascality. Immediately, 
therefore, on hearing this famous proposition, he brought 
Johnson into the dining room where Marion and my- 
self were sitting, and, in his presence, told us the whole 
affair. 

Oh that my young countrymen could all have been 
there, that they might have seen what a pale trembling, 
pitiful figure a detected rascal makes ! I am sure they 
could never have lost that blessed moment's impression 
in the favor of truth and honor. 

After much swallowing, Johnson, however, at last, 
got the better of his conscience, and came on with a 
stout denial of the fact. Whereupon Charnock, snatch- 
ing a pair of pistols, ordered him to take one and fight 
him on the spot. This being refused, the furious lieu- 
tenant instantly fell upon him with a cane. Sensible 
that Johnson had very richly deserved this ignominious 

3 



34 



THE LIFE OF 



chastisement, we gave him up to Charnock, who thrashed 
him very soundly, until, falling on his knees, he roared 
out for quarter. Charnock then ordered him to be gone, 
but with the severest threats in case the recruits were 
not forthcoming at the appointed time. 

On the morrow they came, and " let the cat out of 
the bag." It appeared then, that that most worthless 
fellow, Johnson, had told the poor simple recruits such 
dreadful stories about the war, that in their fright they 
had offered him all their cows and calves to get them 
off! 

Our success in the recruiting business far exceeded 
our expectations, for in a very short time we made up 
our full complement of sixty men each. I have often 
lamented it as a most serious misfortune that we did 
not enlist for the war. lam certain we could as easily 
have enlisted for the war as for six months. We should 
then have had a host of veterans, masters of their dread- 
ful art, inured to hardships, scornful of danger, and com- 
pletely able to purge our country of her cruel invaders. 

As a place of greater security from the enemy's ves- 
sels, Dorchester had been pitched on as a deposite for 
ammuntion and military stores, and put under a guard 
of militia. But fearing that the tories might rise upon 
this slender force and take away our powder, an article 
at that time, of incalculable value, the council of safety 
advised to add a company of regulars, under some brave 
and vigilant officer. Marion had the honor to be nomi- 
nated to the command, and, on the i8th of November 
1775, marched to the post, where he continued, undis- 
turbed by the tories, until Christmas, when he was or- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



35 



dered down to Charleston to put fort Johnson in a state 
of defence. 

About this time an affair happened in Charleston, 
which filled with horror all who witnessed it. Captain 
Fuller, of the second regiment, a gentleman in other 
respects very amiable and exemplary, gave himself up 
to hard drinking, and to such an excess as brought on 
an inflammation in the brain. In this frantic state, 
with wild rolling eyes, and a face shockingly bloated 
and red, he would behave for all the world as if he were 
leading his men into action. " Come on, my brave fel- 
lows," he would cry, " now be cool and steady — reserve 
your fire till I say the word — now give it to them, my 
heroes — hurrah, they run, they run. I thank you, my 
lads, for your gallantry in your country's cause." 

All this time the sweat would roll in torrents down 
his cheeks. Then, quite exhausted, he would fall upon 
his knees, and with clasped hands, and eyes lifted to 
heaven would pronounce the Lord's Prayer and plead in 
the most moving manner. For days the soldiers 
gathered around him while thus employed : and often 
with tears in their eyes, would observe the total ruin 
which intemperance had brought upon this once ele- 
gant young gentleman. His friends in the country, 
hearing of his deplorable condition, came and took him 
home, where death soon put an end to all his miseries. 

In a short time after this, our regiment was deprived 
of another very genteel young officer. Lieutenant Per- 
rineau : who also fell an early sacrifice to that most 
shameful and detestable practice of morning slings and 
midday draughts of strong grog. 



36 THE LIFE OF 

After these two tragedies, the reader will not, I hope, 
be displeased with the following farce, which was acted 
in fort Johnson, while Marion was repairing it, in Jan- 
uary, 1776. The principal actors in it, were Captain 
Marion, and a young lieutenant, whose name, delicacy, 
yet a while, bids me suppress. This officer, though in 
his person as handsome as Absalom, or the blooming 
Adonis, was as destitute of soul as a monkey. He 
appeared to have no idea above that of dress and diver- 
sion : and provided he could but compass his own little 
pitiful ends, which were always of the sensual sort, he 
cared not how shamefully he prevaricated and lied, but 
would wink, and grin, and chuckle, as if he had done 
some great thing. He had served under a score of cap- 
tains, who had all spoken of him as a slippery, worthless 
fellow, whom they knew not what to do with. But 
though most heartily despised, the fool had the vanity 
to think himself amazingly clever ; and actually boasted 
to me one day, that he would soon let me see how far 
he was over my famous Captain Marion's speed. Pres- 
ently he hears that there is to be, next week, a great 
cock-fight at Dorchester. Instantly his childish spirits 
are all on a fever to see the cock-fight. " Oh heavens ! 
he would not miss the cock-fight for the world ! " But 
how to obtain leave of absence from the fort at this 
busy time, was the rub ; however, for such means as he 
was capable of using, an invention like his could not 
long be at a loss. In short, he went to Marion, with a 
doleful face, and in piteous accents, stated that his father, 
an excellent old man as ever son was blessed with, was at 
his last gasp, and only wanted to see him befoie he died. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



37 



The generous Marion, not suspecting tnat so 
goodly an outside could cover such falsehood, did not 
wait to hear the coming petition, but instantly granted 
his wish, unheard. " To be sure, lieutenant, go by all 
means, go and wait upon your father : but return as 
soon as possible, for you see how much we have to do." 

The lieutenant affected to be quite overcome with 
Marion's generosity, and swore he would be back in two 
days, or at farthest in three. As he stepped along by 
me, he thrust his tongue into his cheek, and looked 
prodigiously arch, as if he had achieved a grand exploit. 

As soon as he was gone, I told Marion I suspected 
it was all a trick. And so it turned out : for instead of 
hurrying off, as he had pretended, to see his dying 
father, he slips over to Charleston, where, for fear of 
being seen by any of our officers, he skulked about in 
the lower lanes and alleys until it was time to go up to 
the cock-fight at Dorchester. 

At length after a fortnight's absence, he came over 
to the fort, and entering the marquee, where Marion 
was sitting with his officers, he began to bow and scrape. 
As if not perceiving him, Marion turned his head 
another way. The lieutenant then, exceedingly embar- 
rassed, came out with his apology, — " I am sorry, sir, to 
have outstayed my time so long.; but — but I could not 
help it — but now I am returned to do my duty. 

Marion turned very quickly upon him, and with a 
most mortifying neglect, said, " Aye, lieutenant, is that 
you } Well, never mind it — there is no harm done — I 
never missed you." 

The poor lieutenant was so completely cut up, that 



3^ THE LIFk OF 

he could not say a word, but sneaked ojff, hanging down 
his head, and looked much more like a detected swindler 
than a gentleman soldier. 

The officers, who were all prodigiously pleased with 
his confusion, presently went out and began to rally 
him — "Ah, ha, lieutenant, and so the captain has given 
you a set down." 

" A set down," replied he, very angrily, " a set down, 
do you call it ! I had rather a thousand times he had 
knocked me down — an ugly, cross, knockkneed hook- 
nosed son of a b-t-h ! " 

The officers almost split their sides with laughing. 
The story soon took wind ; and the poor lieutenant did 
not hear the last of it for many a day. I have often 
heard him say, that nothing ever so completely con- 
founded him, as did that dry, cutting speech of Marion. 
" I was never at a loss before," said he, " to manage 
all other officers that were ever set over me. As for our 
colonel, ( meaning Moultrie ) he is a fine, honest, good- 
natured old buck. But I can wind him round my finger 
like a packthread. But as for the stern, keen-eyed 
Marion, I dread him." 

The truth is, Marion wished his officers to be gen- 
tlemen. And whenever he saw one of them acting be- 
low that character, he would generously attempt his 
reformation. And few men, perhaps, ever knew better 
how to manage truants from duty. 

To a coarse, conceited chap, like our lieutenant^ 
Marion gave no quarter, but checked him at once, but. 
still in a way that was quite gentlemanly, and calculated 
to overawe. He kept him at. arms' length — took no 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ,0 

freedoms with him — nor allowed any — and when visited 
on business, he would receive and treat him with a 
formality sufficient to let him see that all was not right. 

The effect of such management evinced the correct- 
ness of Marion's judgment. The young lieutenant be- 
came remarkably polite, and also attentive to duty. In 
short, no subaltern behaved better. And this very hap- 
py change in his manners, was soon succeeded by as 
pleasing a change in the sentiments of all around him. 
The officers of the regiment grew fond of him — MarioQ 
spoke of him with pleasure, as an excellent soldier — and 
he of Marion, as his best friend. 

This is sufficient to show the truth of the remark 
made by Aristotle — " that there is no art so difficult 
and godlike as that of managing men to their own hap- 
piness and glory." 



40 



THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER IV. 

The clouds of danger darker and darker — two additional regiments raised — 
Marion promoted to a majority — fort Moultrie built — A British fleet and 
army invade Carolina — grand preparations to receive them — admirable 
patriotism of the Charleston ladies — heavy attack on fort Moultrie — 
glorious defence of the garrison. 

The clouds of war growing still darker and darker 
every day, the council of safety determined to raise a 
regiment of artillery, and another of infantry. In con- 
sequence of this, several of the officers of the former 
regiment were promoted. Among these was my friend 
Marion, who from the rank of captain, was raised to a 
majority. His field of duties became, of course, much 
more wide and difficult, but he seemed to come forward 
to the discharge of them with the familiarity and alert- 
ness of one who, as General Moultrie used to say, was 
born a soldier. In fact, he appeared never so happy, 
never so completely in his element, as when he had his 
officers and men out on parade at close training. And 
for cleanliness of person, neatness of dress, and gentle- 
manly manners, with celerity and exactness in perform- 
ing their evolutions, they soon became the admiration 
and praise both of citizens and soldiers. And indeed I 
am not afraid to say that Marion was the architect of the 
second regiment, and laid the foundation of that excel- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 41 

lent discipline and confidence in themselves, which 
gained them such reputation whenever they were 
brought to face their enemies. 

In March, 1776, I was sent over with my company, 
to Sullivan's island, to prevent the landing of the British 
from the men-of-war, the Cherokee and Tamar, then ly- 
ing in Rebellion road. I had not been long on that 
station, before Col. Moultrie came over with his whole 
regiment to erect a fort on the island. 

The truth is, the governor had of late become con 
foundedly afraid of a visit from the British. The great 
wealth in Charleston must, he thought, by this time, 
have set their honest fingers to itching — and we also 
suspected that they could hardly be ignorant what a 
number of poor deluded gentlemen, called tones, we 
had among us. 

The arrival of Colonel Moultrie, with the second reg- 
iment, afforded me infinite satisfaction. It brought me 
once more to act in concert with Marion. 'Tis true, he 
had got one grade above me in the line of preferment ; 
but thank God, I never minded that. I loved Marion 
and "love," as every bodyknows "envieth not." We 
met like brothers. I read in his looks the smiling evi- 
dence of his love towards me : and I felt the strongest 
wish to perpetuate his partiality. Friendship was gay 
within my heart, and thenceforth all nature without put 
on her lovHest aspects. The island of sand no longer 
seemed a dreary waste. Brighter rolled the blue waves 
of ocean beneath the golden beam and the sweeter mur- 
mured the billows on their sandy beach. My heart 
rejoiced with the playful fishes, as they leaped high wan 



42 THE LIFE OF 

toning in the air, or, with sudden flounce, returned again 
wild darting through their lucid element. Our work 
went on in joy. The palmetto trees were brought to us by 
the blacks, in large rafts, of which we constructed, for our 
fort, an immense pen two hundred feet long, and sixteen 
feet wide, filled in with sand to stop the shot. For our 
platform, we had two-inch oak planks, nailed down with 
iron spikes. With glad hearts we then got up our car- 
riages and mounted our guns, of which twelve were 
1 8 pounders — twelve 24' s, and twelve French 36' s, 
equal to English 42's. 

A general joy was spread over the faces of our regi- 
ment, as we looked along our battery of thunderers. 

But our glorifying, under God, was chiefly in our two 
and forty pounders. And indeed their appearance was 
terrible, where they lay with wide Cerberean mouths, 
hideously gaping over the roaring waves, and threaten- 
ing destruction to the foes of liberty. 

They were soon called to a trial of their metal. For 
on the 31st of May, while we were all busily driving on 
with our fort, suddenly a cry was heard, " a fleet ! a 
fleet, ho ! " Looking out to sea, we all at once beheld, as 
it were, a wilderness of ships, hanging, like snow-white 
clouds from the northeast sky. It was the sirs Parker 
and Clinton, hastening on with nine ships of war and 
thirty transports, bearing three thousand land forces,to 
attack Charleston. 

Such an armament was an awful novelty, that pro- 
duced on us all a momentary flutter ; but, thank God, 
no serious fear. On the contrary, it was very visible in 
every glowing cheek and sparkling eye, as we looked, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 43 

laughing, on one another, that we considered the ap- 
proaching conflict as a grand trial of courage, which we 
rather desired than dreaded. And to their equal praise, 
our gallant countrymen in Charleston, as we learned 
daily, by the boats, were all in fine spirits, and constantly 
making their best preparations to receive the enemy. 
And still my pen trembles in my hand ; even after this 
long lapse of time, it trembles with wonder and delight, 
to tell of that immortal fire, which in those perilous days, 
glowed in the bosoms of the Charleston fair. Instead 
of gloomy sadness and tears, for the dark cloud that 
threatened their city, they wore the most enlivening 
looks — constantly talked the boldest language of patri- 
otism — animated their husbands, and lovers to fight 
bravely — and, for themselves, they vowed they would 
"never live the slaves of Britain." Some people in our 
days, many not believe me, when I add of these noble 
ladies, that they actually begged leave of their comman- 
dant, to let them " fight by the sides of their relatives 
and friends." This, though a glorious request, was 
absolutely refused them. For who could bear to see 
the sweet face of beauty roughened over with the hard 
frowns of war ; or, the warrior's musket, on those ten- 
der bosoms, formed of heaven only to pillow up the 
cheeks of happy husbands, and of smiling babes t 

But though the spirits of the ladies were willing, 
their nerves were weak ; for when the British ships of 
war hove in sight, opposite to the town, they all went 
down to the shore to view them. And then strong fear, 
like the cold wind of autumn, struck their tender frames 
with trembling, and bleached their rosy cheeks. Some, 



44 



THE LIFE OF 



indeed, of the younger sort, affected to laugh and 
boast ; but the generality returned silent and pensive, 
as from a funeral, hanging their lovely heads, like rows 
of sickly jonquils, when the sun has forsaken the garden, 
and faded nature mourns his departed beams. Sisters 
were often seen to turn pale and sigh, when they looked 
on their youthful brothers, while tender mothers, look- 
ing down on their infant cherubs at the breast, let drop 
their pearly sorrows, and exclaimed, ''happy the wombs 
that bear not, and the paps that give no suck.'' 

In consequence of a most extraordinary continuation 
of calms, baffling winds, and neap tides, the enemy's 
ships never got within our bar till the 27th of June and 
on the following morn, the memorable 28th, they 
weighed anchor on the young flood, and before a fine 
breeze, with top gallant sails, royals, and sky scrapers 
all drawing, came bearing up for the fort like floating 
mountains. 

The anxious reader must not suppose that we were 
standing all this while, with finger in mouth, idly gap- 
ing like children on a raree show. No, by the Living ! 
but, fast as they neared us, we still kept our thunderers 
close bearing upon them, like infernal pointers at a 
dead set ; and as soon as they were come within point 
blank shot, we clapped our matches and gave them a 
tornado of round and double-headed bullets, which made 
many a poor Englishman's head ache. Nor were they, 
long in our debt, but letting go their anchors and clew- 
Jng up their sails, which they did in a trice, they opened all 
their batteries, and broke loose upon us with a roar as if 
heaven and earth had been coming together. 



GEN. FRAiVCIS MARION. 4^ 

Such a sudden burst of flame and thunder, could not 
but make us feel very queer at first, especially as we were 
young hands, and had never been engaged in such an 
awful scene before. But a few rounds presently brought 
us all to rights again, and then, with heads bound up and 
stripped to the buff, we plied our bull-dogs like heroes. 

The British outnumbered us in men and guns at least 
three to one, but then our guns were much the heaviest, 
carrying balls of two and forty pounds weight ! and when 
the monsters, crammed, to the throat with chained shot 
and infernal fire, let out, it was with such hideous 
peals as made both earth and ocean tremble. At one 
time it appeared as though, by a strange kind of acci- 
dent, all their broadsides had struck us at once, 
which made the fort tremble again. But our pal- 
mettoes stood the fire to a miracle, closed up without 
sign of splinter, on their shot, which was stopped 
by the intermediate sand ; while on the other hand, 
every bullet that we fired, went through and through 
their ships, smashing alike sailors, timber heads and iron 
anchors, in their furious course. And thus was the order 
of our battle — there, a line of seven tall ships ; and here, 
one little solitary fort — there, British discipline ; and 
here, American enthusiasm — there, brave men fighting for 
a tyrant ; and here, heroes contending for liberty. I am 
old now, and have forgotten many things, but never shall 
I forget the heartburnings of that day, when I heard 
the blast of those rude cannon, that bade me be a slave ; 
and still my aged bosom swells with the big joy when I 
hear, which I often do in fancy's ear, the answer of our 
faithful bull-dogs, as with deafening roar, lurid flame and 



46 THE LIFE OF 

smoke, they hurled back their iron curses on the wicked 
claim. But alas ! for lack of ammunition, our opening 
victory was soon nipped like a luckless flower, in the 
bud : for the contest had hardly lasted an hour, before 
our powder was so expended that we were obliged, in a 
great measure, to silence our guns, which was matter of 
infinite mortification to us, both because of the grief it 
gave our friends, and the high triumph it afforded our 
enemies. " Powder ! Powder ! millions for powder! " 
was our constant cry. Oh ! had we but had plenty of 
that nois^ kill-seed, as the Scotchmen call it, not one of 
those tall ships would ever have revisited Neptune's green 
dominion. They must inevitably have struck, or laid 
their vast hulks along-side the fort, as hurdles for the 
snail-loving sheep's heads. Indeed, small as our stock of 
ammunition was, we made several of their ships look 
like sieves, and smell like slaughter pens. The commo- 
dore's ship, the Bristol, had fifty men killed, and upwards 
of one hundred wounded ! 

The laurels of the second regiment can never fade 
— the destructive effect of their fire gave glorious proof, 
that they loaded and levelled their pieces like men who 
wished every shot to tell. They all fought like vet- 
erans ; but the behavior of some was gallant beyond 
compare ; and the humble names of Jasper and McDon- 
ald shall be remembered, when those of proud kings 
shall be forgotten. 

A ball from the enemy's ships carried away our flag- 
staff. S^isarcely had the stars of liberty touched the sand, 
before Jasper flew and snatched them up and kissed 
them with great enthusiasm. Then having fixed them 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



47 



to the point of his spontoon, he leaped ixp on the breast- 
work amidst the storm and fury of the battle, and res- 
tored them to their daring station — waving his hat at 
the same time and huzzaing, " God save liberty and my 
country for ever ! " 

As to Sergeant M' Donald, while fighting like a hero, 
at his gun, a cannon ball came in at the port hole, and 
mangled him miserably. As he was borne off, he lifted 
his dying eyes, and said to his comrades, " Huzza, my 
brave fellows, I die, but don't let the cause of liberty die 
with me." 

The effect of our last gun, and which happened to 
be fired by Marion, is too remarkable to be lost. It was 
his lot that day to command the left wing of the fort 
where many of our heaviest cannon were planted. As, 
from lack of powder, we were obliged to fire very slow, 
Marion would often level the guns himself. And now, 
comes my story. Just after sunset the enemy's ships 
ceased firing, and slipping their cables, began to move 
off. Pleased with the event, an officer on the quarter- 
deck of the Bristol man-of-war, called out to his com- 
rade, " Well d — n my eyes, Frank the play fs over ! so 
let's go below and hob nob to a glass of wine, for I am 
devilish dry ! " 

" With all my heart Jack ; " replied the other ; so 
down they whipped into the cabin, where wine and glasses 
had been standing all day on the table. At that mo- 
ment, one of our two and forty pounders being just loaded, 
Marion called to Moultrie, and asked him if it would not 
be well enough to give them the last blow. Yes," re- 
plied Moultrie, " give them the parting kick." 



48 THE LIFE OF 

Marion clapped the match, and away, in thunder 
and lightning went the ball, which, entering the cabin 
windows, shattered the two young friends : thence 
raging through the bulkheads and steerage, it shivered 
three sailors on the main deck, and, after all, bursting 
through the forecastle into the sea, sunk with sullen joy 
to the bottom. 

We got this story from five British seamen, who 
ran off with the Bristol's long boat, and came and 
joined us that very night. 

The next day, that noble whig Mr. William Logan 
sent us a couple of fat beeves and a hogshead of rum, 
" to refresh us," as he was pleased to say, " after our 
hard day's work." And on the second day after the 
action, the governor and council, with numbers of the 
great ladies and gentlemen of Charleston, came over to 
the fort to visit us. We all put on our '' best bibs and 
tuckers," and paraded at the water's edge to receive them, 
which we did with a spanking feu de joie, and were not a 
little gratified with their attentions and handsome com- 
pliments paid us, for what they politely termed " our gal- 
lant defence of our country." 

And indeed to see the looks of our poor soldiers, 
when those great ladies, all glittering in silks and jewels, 
and powdered and perfumed so nice, would come up to 
them, with faces like angels, sparkling and smiling so 
sweet, as if they would kiss them ; I say to see the looks 
of our poor fellows, their awkward bows and broad 
grins and other droll capers they cut, nohuman being 
could have refrained from laughing. 

Presently that excellent lady, Mrs. Colonel Elliot (of 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



49 



the artillery,) came forward and presented us with a 
most superb pair of colors, embroidered with gold and 
silver by her own lily-white hands. 

They were delivered, if I mistake not, to the brave 
Sergeant Jasper, who smiled when he took them, and 
vowed he " would never give them up but with his life. 

Poor fellow ! he too soon made good his promise, 
near the fatal walls of Savannah. 

But it was not the ladies alone that were attentive 
to us, for that great man, Governor Rutledge, in pres- 
ence of the regiment, took the sword from his side, 
and with his own noble hand presented it to Sergeant 
Jasper. He also offered him a commission on the spot ; 
but this, Jasper absolutely refused. '' I am greatly 
obliged to you, governor," said he, " but I had rather not 
have a commission. As I am, I pass very well with such 
company as a poor sergeant has any right to keep. If I 
were to get a commission, I should be forced to keep 
higher company : and then, as I don't know how to read, 
I should only be throwing myself in a way to be laughed 
at !" Parents, who can waste on grog and tobacco, that 
precious money you ought to educate your children with, 
think of this ! 



^o ' TkE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER V. 

Governor Rutledge harangues the Troops — shows Britain's injustice to 
have been the cause of the American war — independence declared — ^great 
joy on that account. 

On the 20th of September, 1776, all the troops in 
Charleston were ordered to rendezvous without the gates 
of the city, to hear, as we were told, " Some great news." 
Soon as we were paraded, Governor Rutledge ascended 
a stage, and in the forcible manner of a Demosthenes, 
informed us that Congress had dissolved all relation with 
England, by an open Declaration of Independence. 

"You are, no doubt, gentlemen," said he, "surprised, 
and perhaps shocked at this intelligence. But however 
painful this measure may be to our feelings, it is abso- 
lutely necessary to our safety. 

" Under the sacred name of ' mother country,' Eng- 
land has long been working our ruin. I need not teli 
you that our fathers were Britons, who for liberty's 
sake, came and settled in this country, then a howling 
wilderness. For a long time they ate their bread, not 
only embittered with sweat, but often stained with 
blood — their own and the blood of their children, fight- 
ing the savages for a dwelling place. At length they 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 



SI 



prevailed and found a rest. But still their hearts were 
towards the place of their nativity ; and often with tears, 
did they think and talk of the white-cliffed island where 
their fathers dwelt. Dying, they bequeathed to us the 
same tender sentiments, which we cherished with a 
pious care. The name of England was a pleasant sound 
in our ears — the sight of her ships was always wont to 
fill our hearts with joy. We hasted to greet the be- 
loved strangers ; and hurrying them to our habitations, 
spread for them our feast, and rejoiced as men do in the 
society of their dearest friends. 

" Oh ! had our mother country but treated us with 
equal affection — as a tender parent, had she but smiled 
on our valor — encouraged our industry — and thus ex- 
alted the horn of our glory, our union and brotherly 
love would have been eternal ; and the impious name of 
independence had never been heard ! But, alas ! instead 
of treating us in this endearing spirit, she cruelly limited 
our commerce — compelled us to buy and sell to her 
alone, and at her own prices — and not content with the 
enormous profits of such a shameful traffic, she has 
come, at length, to claim a right to tax us at pleasure. 

"But, my countrymen, will you suffer thus rudely to 
be wrested from you, that goodly inheritance of lib- 
erty, which was bequeathed to you by your gallant 
fathers "i Will you thus tamely suffer to be frustrated 
all the glorious designs of God towards you and your 
children ? For look but around on this great land, which 
he has given you, and yon bright heavens, which he has 
spread over your favored heads, and say whether he ever 
intended those mighty scenes to be the prison-house of 



^2 THE LIFE OF 

slaves ? — the trembling slaves of a small island beyond 
the sea ? — hewers of wood and drawers of water, planters 
of rice and pickers of cotton, for a foreign tyrant and his 
minions ? No, my friends, God never intended you for 
such dishonor — and can you be so wicked as to bring it 
on yourselves ? I trust you will not. Nay, the voices 
of your brave countrymen in Congress, have said you 
will not, and anticipating your heroic sentiments, have 
already declared you a " free and independent peo 
pie ! " 

" And now my gallant friends, are you willing to 
confirm their glorious deed ? Are you willing this day, 
in the sight of heaven, to swear allegiance to the sover- 
eignty of your country, and to place her in the highest 
rank of nations, by proclaiming her independent ? " 

In a moment the air resounded with " Yes, yes, 
independence ! Independence for ever ! God save the 
independent states of America." 

The oath of allegiance was then tendered to the 
troops. The officers with great alacrity took it first 
which highly pleased the common soldiers, who readily 
followed their patriotic example. Soon as the solemn 
rite was performed, the governor ordered a feu de joie. 
Instantly at the welcome word, " handle arms," the 
eager warriors struck their firelocks, loud ringing 
through all their ranks ; and presenting their pieces, 
rent the air with fierce platoons ; while the deep-throated 
cannon, like surly bull-dogs, rolled their louder thunders 
along the field ; then madly bounding back on their 
rattling wheels, they told to fancy's ear, " Freedorii's sons 
are we, and d — n the villains that would make us slaves ! " 



/ 

GEN FRANCIS MARION. 



53 



CHAPTER YI 

Times growing squally — the author sets out a vagrant hunting 
— gets into hot water — narrowly escapes with his life — catches a 
host of vagabonds, but learns from experience, that, though a rascal 
may do to stop a bullet, 'tis only the man of honor that can make a 
good soldier. 

" The devil," said George Whitefield, " is fond of 
fishing in muddy waters," — hence it is, I suppose that 
that grand demagogue has always been so fond of war ; 
— that sunshine and basking time of rogues, which calls 
them out, thick as May-day sun calls out the rattle- 
snakes from their stony crannies. 

In times of peace, the waters are clear, so that if the 
smallest Jack (villain) but makes his appearance, eagle- 
eyed justice, with her iron talons, is down upon him in a 
moment. But let war but stir up the mud of confusion, 
and straightway the eyes of justice are blinded — thieves 
turn out in shoals : and devils, like hungry fishing-hawks, 
are seen by the eye of faith, hovering over the wretched 
fry, screaming for their prey. 

This was exactly the case in South Carolina. The 
war had hardly raged there above a twelvemonth and a 
day, before the state of society seemed turned upside 
down. The sacred plough was everywhere seen rusting 



54 



THE LIFE OF 



in the weedy furrows ; grog-shops and Nanny houses 
were springing up as thick as hops ; at the house of 
God you saw nobody ; but if there was a devil's house 
( a dram shop ) hard by, you might be sure to see that 
crowded with poor Lazarites, with red noses and black 
eyes, and the fences all strung along with starved 
tackies, in grape-vine bridles and sheepskin saddles. 
In short, the whole country was fast overrunning with vag- 
abonds, like ravening locusts, seeking where they might 
light, and whom they should devour. 

" Good heavens ! " said Marion to me one day, and 
with great alarm in his looks, " what's to be done with 
these wretches, these vagrants ? I am actually afraid we 
shall be ruined by them presently. For you know, sir, 
that a vagrant is but the chrysalis or fly state of the 
gambler, the horse-thief, the money-coiner, and indeed 
of every other worthless creature that disturbs and en- 
dangers society." 

" Why colonel," replied I, " there's a conceit in my 
head, which, if it could but be brought to bear, would, I 
think, soon settle the hash with these rascals." 

" Aye," replied he, " well, pray give it to us, for I 
should be very fond to hear it." 

" Why sir," said I, " give me but a lieutenant, ser- 
geant, and corporal, with a dozen privates, all of my 
own choosing, do you see, and if I don't soon give you 
a good account of those villains, you may, with all my 
heart, give me a good suit of tar and feathers." 

My demand was instantly complied with. Then 
taking with me such men as I knew I could depend on, 
among whom was the brave Lieutenant Jossilin, I set out 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 55 

from the Long Buff, towards Sandhills. The reader 
will please to take notice, that in our hurry we had not 
forgot to take with us a constable with a proper warrant. 

We had gone but a few miles, before we fell in with 
a squad of as choice game as heart could have wished, 
three proper tall young vagabonds profoundly engaged at 
all fours, in a log tippling-shop, with cards as black as 
their own dirty hands, and a tickler of brandy before them ! 
and so intent were the thieves on fleecing each other, 
that they took no manner of notice of us, but continued 
their scoundrel work, eagerly stretched over the table, 
thwacking down their cards with filthy knuckles, and at 
every stroke bawling out, " there's a good trick ! " 

" That's as good as he." 

"And there's the best of the three — huzza d — n me, 
at him again my hearties," 

" Lieutenant Gossilin," said I, " grab them fellows." 

You never saw poor devils in such a fright But 
soon as they had recovered the use of their tongues, 
they swore like troopers that they were the " most 
honestest gentlemen in all Carolina." 

" Aye ! well, I am very glad to hear that, gentle- 
men," said I, " for I love honest men prodigiously, and 
hope the magistrate wmII confirm the handsome report 
you have made of yourselves." 

So off we set all together for the magistrate. About 
dinner time I ordered a halt at the house of one John- 
son, a militia captain, who appeared quite overwhelmed 
with joy to see me. 

" Heaven bless us ! " said he, " and now who could 
have believed all this } And have I, at last, to my 



56 THE LIFE OE 

heart's desire, the great honor of seeing under my hum 
ble roof the noble Major Horry? " 

I told him I was much obliged to him, for his polite- 
ness — but, for the present, was rather too hungry to 
relish compliments. " Like sweetmeats, captain," said 
I, "a little of them may do pretty well after a good 
dinner." 

" Oh, my dear major !" quoth he, " and how sorry I 
am now, that I have nothing fit for dinner for you, my 
noble son of thunder — a saddle of fat venison, major; 
or a brace of young ducks ; or, a green goose with currant 
jelly, and a bottle of old Madeira to wash it down, do 
you see, major ! something nice for you, do you see, 
major ! " 

" Nice,'' said I, " Captain Johnson ! We soldiers of 
liberty don't stand upon the nice, the substantial is 
what we care for — a rasher of fat bacon from the coals, 
with a good stout lump of an ash^ cake, is nice enough 
for us." 

" Oh, my dear sir ! " repHed he, " now don't, don't be 
angry with me ; for I was only sorry that I have nothing 
half so good for you as I could wish, but such as it is, 
thank God, we have plenty ; and you shall have a bite 
in a trice." So ofE he went, as he pretended, to hurry 
dinner. 

Now can any honest man believe that this same 
man. Captain Johnson, who had been, as Paddy says, 
" sticking the blarney into me at that rate," could have 
been such a scoundrel as to turn about the very next 
minute, and try all in his power to trick me out of my 
vagrants. It is, however, too true to be doubted ; for 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



57 



having purposely delayed dinner till it was late, he then 
insisted that I must not deny him the "very great hon- 
or of my company that night." Soon as my consent 
was obtained, he despatched a parcel of riders, to order 
in, with their guns, as many of his gang as he thought 
would do. In the course of the night, snug as Master 
Johnson thought himself, I got a hint of his capers, and 
told my men to see that their guns were in prime order. 

While breakfast was getting ready, ( for Johnson 
swore I should not leave him " on an empty stomach," ) 
Lieutenant Jossilin came and told me he did not under- 
stand the meaning of so many ill-looking fellows com- 
ing about the house with their guns in their hands. 

I replied that we should see presently. 

Breakfast then making its appearance, we sat down, 
and while we were eating, ( our men all on parade at 
the door ) Johnson's men kept dropping in one after 
another, till there were, I dare say, as many as thirty of 
them in the room, all armed. 

When breakfast was over, I turned to the constable, 
and desired him to look to his charge, meaning the three 
vagrants, for that we would start as soon as our men 
were all refreshed. Upon this Captain Johnson said he 
believed he should not let the prisoners go. 

" Not let them go, sir," said I, " what do you mean 
by that, sir.?" 

" I mean sir," replied he, " that the law is an oppres- 
sive one." 

I asked him, still keeping myself perfectly cool, if he 
was not an American soldier } 

"Yes, sir," he answered," I am an American soldier ; 



58 



THE LIFE OF 



and as good a one, perhaps, as yourself, or any other 
man." 

" Well, sir, and is this the way you show your soldier- 
ship, by insulting the law ? " 

" I am not bound," continued he, " to obey a bad 
law." 

" But, sir, who gave you a right to judge the law ? " 

" I don't mind that," quoth he, " but d — n me, sir, if 
I'll let the prisoners go.'* 

" Very well Captain Johnson," said I, " we shall soon 
try that ; and if you and your people here, choose to go 
to the devil for resisting the^ law, on your own heads be 
the bloody consequences." 

With this I gave the floor a thundering stamp, and 
in a moment, as by magic, in bursted my brave sergeant 
and men, with fixed bayonets, ready for slaughter, 
while Jossilin and myself, whipping out our swords, 
rushed on as to the charge. 

A troop of red foxes dashing into a poultry yard 
never produced such squalling and flying as now took 
place among these poor guilty wretches, " Lord have 
mercy on us," they cried — down fell their guns — smack 
went the doors and windows — and out of both, heels over 
head they tumbled, as expecting every moment the points 
of our bayonets. The house was quickly cleared of 
every soul except Johnson and his lieutenant, one Lun- 
da, who both trembled like aspen leaves, expecting a 
severe drubbing. 

" Captain Johnson," said I, " don't tremble ; you have 
nothing to fear from me. A man who can act as you 
have done, is not an object of anger, but contempt. Go 



G]SN. FRANCIS MARION. 



59 



and learn the spirit that becomes a gentleman and an 
American soldier." 

I should have observed, that as we advanced to charge 
Johnson's poltroons, one of the party, a resolute fellow, 
presented his gun to my breast and drew the trigger. 
Happily, in the very instant of its firing. Lieutenant Jos- 
silin knocked it up with his sword ; and the ball graz- 
ing my shoulder, bursted through the side of the house. 

As we rode off, some of Johnson's fugitives had the 
audacity to bawl out, through from a very prudent dis- 
tance, threatening us that they would yet rescue the 
prisoners before we got to the bluff. But they wisely 
took care not to make good their word, for they were 
only a pack of poor ignorant tories, who did nothing on 
principle, and were therefore ready to quit their purpose 
the moment they saw danger in the way. 

Our success at vagrant hunting was marvellous. I 
hardly think we could, in the same time, have caught as 
many raccoons in any swamp on Pedee. On counting 
noses, we found, that in our three week's course, we had 
seized and sent off to Charleston, upwards of fifty. With 
the last haul, I returned myself to the city, where I re- 
ceived the thanks of General Howe, for " the handsome 
addition," as he was pleased to term it, "which I had 
made to the regiment." 

But on trial, it was found that such vermin were not 
worthy of thanks, nor they were any addition to the regi- 
ment except as disgust to the men and vexation to the 
officers. Destitute of honor, they performed their duty, 
not like soldiers, but slaves ; and on every opportunity, 
would run off into the woods like wild beasts. 



6o THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER VII. 



The brave Sergeant Jasper again on the carpet — in disguise visits a British 
post at Ebenezer — in company of Sergeant Newton, makes a second trip 
thither — affecting view of an American lady and her child, with other 
whig prisoners at Ebenezer — desperate resolve of Jasper and Newton, 
to rescue them — their bloody conflict and glorious triumph. 



In the spring of 1779, Marion and myself were sent 
with our commands, to Purysburgh, to reinforce Gen- 
eral Lincoln, who was there on his way to attack the 
British in Savannah, which a few months before had fal- 
len into their hands. As the count D'Estang, who was 
expected to co-operate in this affair, had not yet arrived, 
General Lincoln thought it advisable to intrench and 
wait for him. 

While we were lying at Purysburgh, a couple of young 
men of our regiment achieved an act of generosity and 
courage, which, in former days, would have laid the 
groundwork of a heroic romance. One of the actors in 
this extraordinary play was the brave Sergeant Jasper, 
whose name will forever be dear to the friends of Amer- 
ican liberty. 

Jasper had a brother who had joined the British, and 
held the rank of sergeant in their garrison at Ebenezer, 
Never man was truer to his country than Jasper, yet 
was his heart so warm that he loved his brother, though 
a tory, and actually went over to see him. His brother 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 6 1 

was exceedingly alarmed at sight of him, lest he should 
be seized and hung up at once as a spy, for his name 
was well known to many of the British officers. But 
Jasper begged him not to give himself much trouble on 
that head, for, said he, " I am no longer an American 
soldier." 

"Well, thank God for that, William," replied his 
brother, giving him a hearty shake by the hand, " And 
now only say the word, my boy, and here is a com- 
mission for you with regimentals and gold to boot, to 
fight for his majesty." 

Jasper shook his head and observed, that though 
there was but little encouragement to fight for his coun- 
try, yet he could not find in his heart to fight against her. 
And there the conversation ended. 

After staying with his brother some two or three 
days, inspecting and hearing all that he could, he took 
his leave, and by a round about returned to camp, and 
told General Lincoln all that he had seen. 

Having wasted several weeks longer of tiresome 
idleness, and no news of the French fleet, Jasper took it 
into his head to make another trip to Ebenezer. 

On this occasion he did not, as before, go alone, but 
took with him his particular friend, Sergeant Newton, 
son of an old Baptist preacher, and a young fellow, for 
strength and courage, just about a good match for Jas- 
per himself. 

He was received as usual, with great cordiality by 
his brother, to whom he introduced his friend New- 
ton, and spent several days in the British fort, without 



62 THJS LIFE OP 

giving the least alarm. On the morning of the third day 
his brother had some bad news to tell him. 
" Aye ! what is it " he asked, " what is it } " 
" Why," replied his brother, " here are some ten or a 
dozen American prisoners, brought in this morning, as 
deserters from Savannah, whither they are to be sent 
immediately. And from what I can learn, it will be apt 
to go hard with them, for it seems they have all taken 
the king's bounty." 

" Let's see 'em," said Jasper, " let's see 'em." 
So his brother took him and Newton to see them. 
And indeed it was a mournful sight to behold them, 
where they sat, poor fellows ! all handcuffed, on the 
ground. But all pity of them was forgot, soon as the 
eye was turned to a far more doleful sight hard by, 
which was a young woman, wife of one of the prisoners, 
with her child, a sweet little boy of about five years old. 
The name of this lady was Jones. Her humble garb 
showed her to be poor, but her deep distress, and sym- 
pathy with her unfortunate husband, showed that she 
was rich in that pure conjugal love, that is more precious 
than all gold. 

She generally sat on the ground opposite to her hus- 
band, with her little boy leaning on her lap, and her 
coal-black hair spreading in long neglected tresses on 
her neck and bosom. And thus in silence she sat a 
statue of grief, sometimes with her eyes hard fixed upon 
the earth, Hke one lost in thought, sighing and groan- 
ing the while as if her heart would burst — then starting, 
as from a reverie, she would dart her eager eyes, red 
with weeping, on her husband's face, and there would 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



63 



gaze, with looks so piercing sad, as though she saw him 
struggling in the halter, herself a widow, and her son an 
orphan. Straight her frame would begin to shake with the 
rising agony, and her face to change and swell ; then with 
eyes swimming in tears, she would look around upon us all, 
for pity and for help, with cries sufficient to melt the 
heart of a demon. While the child seeing his father's 
hands fast bound, and his mother weeping, added to the 
distressing scene, by his artless cries and tears. 

The brave are always tender-hearted. It was so 
with Jasper and Newton, two of the most undaunted 
spirits that ever lived. They walked out in the neigh- 
boring wood. The tear was in the eye of both, Jasper 
first broke silence. " Newton," said he, " my days have 
been but few ; but I believe their course is nearly done." 

" Why so, Jasper } " 

" Why, I feel," said he, " that I must rescue these 
poor prisoners, or die with them ; otherwise that woman 
and her child will haunt me to my grave." 

" Well, that is exactly what I feel too," replied New- 
ton — " and here is my hand and heart to stand by you, 
my brave friend, to the last drop. Thank God, a man 
can die but once, and there is not so much in this life 
that a man need be afraid to leave it, especially when he 
is in the way of his duty." 

The two friends then embraced with great cordiality, 
while each read in the other's countenance, that immor- 
tal fire which beams from the eyes of the brave, when 
resolved to die or conquer in some glorious cause. 

Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were sent 
on for Savannah, under a guard of a sergeant and cor- 



64 THE LIFE OF 

poral with eight men. They had not been gone long, 
before Jasper, accompanied by his friend Newton, took 
leave of his brother, and set out on some errand to the 
upper country. They had scarcely, however, got out of 
sight of Ebenezer, before they struck into the pine woods, 
and pushed hard after the prisoners and their guard, 
whom they closely dogged for several miles, anxiously 
watching an opportunity to make a blow. But alas ! 
all hopes of that sort seemed utterly extravagant ; for 
what could give two men a chance to contend against 
ten, especially when there was found no weapon in the 
hands of the two, while the ten, each man was armed 
with his loaded musket and bayonet. But unable to 
give up their countrymen, our heroes still followed on. 

About two miles from Savannah there is a famous 
spring, generally called the Spa, well known to travellers, 
who often turn in hither to quench their thirst. 

"Perhaps," said Jasper, " the guard may stop there." 
Then hastening on by a near cut through the woods, 
they gained the Spa, as their last hope, and there con- 
cealed themselves among the bushes that grew abun- 
dantly around the spring. 

Presently the mournful procession came in sight, 
headed by the sergeant, who on coming opposite to the 
spring ordered a halt. Hope sprung afresh in our heroes' 
bosoms, strong throbbing too, no doubt, with great 
alarms, for " it was a fearful odds." The corporal with 
his guard of four men, conducted the prisoners to the 
spring, while the sergeant with the other four, having 
grounded their arms near the road, brought up the rear. 
The prisoners, wearied with their long walk, were per- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 65 

mitted to rest themselves on the earthy Poor Mrs. Jones, 
as usual, took her seat opposite to her husband, and her 
little boy, overcome with fatigue, fell asleep in her lap. 
Two of the corporal's men were ordered to keep guard, 
and the other two to give the prisoners drinji out of their 
canteens. These last approached the spring where our 
heroes lay concealed, and resting their muskets against 
a pine tree, dipped up water : and having drunk them- 
selves, turned away, with replenished canteens, to give 
the prisoners also. " Now, Newton, is our timet" said 
Jasper. Then bursting, like two lions, from their con- 
cealment, they snatched up the two muskets that were 
resting against the pine, and in an instant shot down the 
two soldiers that kept guard. And now the question 
was, who should first get the two loaded muskets that 
had just fallen from the hands of the slain. For by this 
time the sergeant and corporal, a couple of brave English- 
men, recovering from their momentary panic, had sprung' 
and seized upon the muskets ; but before they could use 
them, the strong swift-handed Americans, with clubbed 
guns, levelled each at the head of his brave antagonist, 
the final blow. The tender bones of the skull gave way 
beneath the furious strokes, and with wide scattered 
blood and brains down they sank, pale and quivering to 
the earth without a groan. Then snatching up the guns 
which had thus, a second time fallen from the hands of 
the slain, they flew between the surviving enemy, and 
ordered them to surrender, which they instantly did. 

Having called the prisoners to them, they quickly 
with the point of their bayonets, broke off their hand- 
cuffs, and gave each of them a musket. 

5 



66 THE LIFE OF 

At the commencement of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, 
half frightened to death, had fallen to the ground in a 
swoon, with her little son piteously screaming over her. 
But when she came to herself, and saw her ' usband and 
friends around her, all freed from their fetters and well 
armed, she looked and behaved like one frantic with joy. 
She sprung to her husband's bosom, and with her arms 
around his neck, sobbed out, " Oh bless God ! bless 
God ! my husband is safe ; my husband is not hung yet ;" 
then snatching up her child, and straining him to her 
soul, as if she would have pressed him to death, she cried 
out — "O praise ! praise ! praise God forever, my son has 
a father yet ! " Then wildly darting round her eyes in 
quest of her deliverers she exclaimed, " Where ! where 
are those blessed angels that God sent to save mv hus- 
band ? " 

Directing her eyes to Jasper and Newton, where they 
stood like two youthful Samsons, in the full flowing of 
their locks, she ran and fell on her knees before them, and 
seizing their hands, kissed and pressed them to her 
bosom, crying out vehemently, " Dear angels ! dear an- 
gels ! God bless you ! God Almighty bless you forever I " 

Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the 
enemy, our heroes snatched the arms and regimentals 
of the slain, and with their friends and captive foes, re- 
crossed the Savannah, and in safety rejoined our army 
at Purysburgh, to the inexpressible astonishment and 
joy of us all. 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION, 67 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The count D'Estmg, with the French fleet, arrives to attack Savannah — 
our army marches and joins him — fatal effects of D'Estang's politeness — 
biopraphical dash of young Colonel Laurens — curious dialogue betwixt 
him and the French general — unsuccessful attack on Savannah — the 
brave Jasper mortally wounded — is visited by the author in hi s last mo- 
ments — interesting conversation — dies like a Christian soldier. 



Could the wishes of our army have availed, those 
gallant soldiers, (Jasper and Newton) would long have 
lived to enjoy their past, and to win fresh laurels. But 
alas ! the former of them, the heroic Jasper, was soon 
led, like a. young lion, to an evil net. The mournful 
story of his death, with heavy heart I now relate. 

Scarcely had he returned from Georgia, laden, as 
aforesaid, with glory, when an express came into camp, 
and informed us that the count D'Estang was arrived off 
Tybec. Instantly we struck our tents and marched for 
the siege of wSavannah. On arriving near that fatal 
place, we found that the French troops, with their 
cannon and mortars, had just come up. Oh ! had we 
but advanced at once to the attack, as became skilful 
soldiers, we should have carried every thing before us. 
The frighted garrison would have hauled down their 
colors without firing a shot. This I am warranted to 
say by the declaration of numbers of their ofricers, who 
afterwards fell into our hands. But in place of an im- 



68 THE LIFE OF 

mediate coup de mainy the courtly D'Estang sent a flag, 
very politely inviting the town to do him the extreme 
honor of receiving their surrrender. 

The British commander was not much behind hand 
with the count in the article of politeness, for he also re- 
turned a flag with his compliments, and requested to be 
permitted four and twenty hours to think of the matter. 

If the asking such a favor was extraordinary, what 
must the granting of it have been ? But the accom- 
plished D'Estang was fully equal to such douceurs for 
he actually allowed the enemy four and twenty hours to 
think of surrendering i 

But instead of thinking like simpletons, they fell to 
intrenching like brave soldiers. And being joined that 
very day by Colonel Maitland from Beaufort, with a reg- 
iment of Highlanders, and assisted by swarms of 
negroes, decoyed from their masters under promise of 
freedom, they pushed on their works with great rapidity. 
According to the report of our troops who were en- 
camped nearest to them, nothing was heard all that 
night, but the huzzas of the soldiers, the lashes of cow- 
hides, and the cries of negroes. 

I never beheld Marion in so great a passion. I was 
actually afraid he would have broke out on General 
Lincoln. '' My God ! " he exclaimed, " who ever heard 
of anything like this before ! first allow an enemy to 
intrench, and then fight him ! See the destruction 
brought upon the British at Bunker's Hill ! and yet our 
troops there were only militia ! raw, half-armed clod- 
hoppers ! and not a mortar, nor carronade, nor even a 
swivel— but only their ducking guns ! 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



Go 



" What then are we to expect from regulars — com- 
pletely armed with a choice train of artillery, and cov- 
ered by a breastwork ! For my own part, when I look 
upon my brave fellows around me, it wrings me to the 
heart, to think how near most of them are to their bloody 
graves." 

In fact, Marion was so outrageous, as indeed were all 
of us, that we at length begged Colonel Laurens to speak 
to the count D'Estang. 

And here I must beg the reader's pardon a moment, 
while I inform him that this Colonel Laurens (son of 
President Laurens) was a very extraordinary young 
Carolinian. 

On a trip to London, he fell in love with, and mar- 
ried a celebrated belle of that city. It would seem that 
he was very much taken with his English relations, 
and they with him, for after his marriage, they would 
not suffer him to revisit his parents, whodoated on him, 
being their only son, but detained him with them in 
London, as gay as a young man well could be, in the 
gayest city in the world, moving every day in the highest 
circles of society, and every night encircled in the fond 
arms of a beauteous wife. 

But soon as the war against America broke out, his 
gayety all forsook him. The idea of a ruffian soldiery 
overunning his native land, preyed incessantly on his 
spirits, and threw him into those brown studies which 
cost his lady full many a tear. Unable to bear his dis- 
quietude, he fled at length from his wife and infant 
family, to fight for his country. He presented himself 
before the great Washington, who was so struck with the 



7© THE LIFE OF 

fire that beamed from his eyes, that he made him hand- 
some offers of rank in the army. But his favorite service 
was to lead forlorn hopes, and the daring bands that are 
destined to carry the enemy's works by storm. Wash- 
ington often gave him letters to this effect to his gen- 
erals. And this was his object at Savannah, where a 
regiment of choice infantry was immediately put under 
his command. But instead of being permitted his fa- 
vorite pleasure of seeing his ardent warriors mounting 
the enemy's works, and rushing down $treams of fire, 
followed by the bayonet, he was doomed to fret and pine 
in the humble office of interpreter between count D'Es- 
tang and General Lincoln. 

** But, monsieur le comte," said Laurens to D'Estang, 
" the American officers say they are afraid you have 
given the English too long time to think." 

At this, as Laurens told us afterwards, the count put 
on a most comic stare, and breaking into a hearty laugh, 
replied, " Dc Engleesh think ! ha, ha, ha ! By gar dat 
one ver ^oo^ parole ! De Engleesh tink, heh, monsieur le 
colonel ! By gar, de Engleesh never tink but for deir 
bellie. Give de Jack Engleeshman plenty beef — plenty 
pudding — plenty porter, by gar he never tink any more, 
he lay down, he go a sleep like vun hog." 

" But, monsieur le comte," continued Laurens, " the 
English are doing worse for us than thinking. They 
are working away like horses, and will soon get their 
defences too high for us to scale." 

" Eh, heh, monsieur le colonel ! you tink-a so ? 
Well den, by gar you no need for tink-a so — by gar my 
French-a-mans run over de fence just like vun tief horse 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. yi 

run over dc cornfield fence — mind now I tcll-a you dat, 
monsieur le colonel." 

" Well, but monsieur le comte, the British sometimes 
fight like the d— 1." 

" Sucre Dim ! " replied the nettled count, starting 
and gaping as though he would have swallowed a young 
alligator — " de Briteesh fight likede diable I yatmf outre 
lie Briteesh ! when they been known for fight Uke de 
diable ? Ess, ess, dat true enough ; dey fight de Amer- 
icans like de diable — but by gar dey no fight de French- 
a-mans so — no, no, by gar dey no make one mouthful for 
my French-a-mans — Morbleu ! my French-a-mans eat 
dem up like vun Icetle grenouille!' 

" Green owl ! " exclaimed one of General Lincoln's 
aids, " Oh my God ! who ever heard of a green owl 
before ? " 

Here Laurens, smiling at the officer's mistake, re- 
plied, "not green owl, sir, but grenouille, grenouille, sir, 
is the French for frog." 

" Aye, sure enough, sure enough, frog," continued 
the count, " frog ; grenotiille is frog. By gar, mon- 
sieur, le colonel, you be vun dam good interpret, I see 
dat well enough. Well den, now, monsieur le colonel^ 
you hear-a me speak — my French-a mans eat dem Jack 
Engleesh all same like vun leetle frog." 

" Oh to be sure ! — no doubt of all that, monsieur le 
comte — but before we eat them up, they may kill a great 
many of our soldiers." 

" Dey kill-a de soldier ! " replied the passionate count 
— '* well what den if dey do kill-a de soldier ! yaun 
f outre de soldier ! what dey good for but for be kill ? 



y3 THE LIFE OF 

dat deir trade. You give-a vun poor dog soldier, two, 
three, four penny a day, he go fight — he get kill. Well 
den, what dat .? By gar he only get what he hire for." 

" But pardon me, monsieur le comte, we can't spare 
them." 

" Vat ! no spare de soldier ! de graiid Monarque no 
spare de soldier ? O moii Dieu ! Vy, monsieur le colo- 
nel — for why you talk-a so .? Well den, hear-a me 
speak now, monsieur le colonel — you see de star in de 
sky ; de leaf on de tree ; de sand on de shore — you no 
see all dat„ heh } Well den, by gar, monsieur le 
colonel, de grand Monmque got soldier more an-a 
all dat — ess, sacra Dieu more an-a-all dat, by gar." 

" Well but, monsieur le comte, is it not cruel to kill 
the poor fellows notwithstanding 1 " 

" Phoh ? " replied the count, throwing back his head, 
and puffing out his cheeks as when a cigar sucker ex- 
plodes a cataract of smoke from the crater of his throat ; 
" cruel ! vat cruel for kill-a de soldier ! by gar, mons- 
ieur le colonel, you make-a de king of France laugh he 
hear-a you talk after dat fashong. Let a me tell you 
monsieur le colonel, de king of France no like General 
Washington — b}^ gar General Washington talk wi' de 
soldier — he shake hand wi' de soldier — he give de 
soldier dram — By gar, ^^ grand mona^qne no do so — no 
sacra Dieu ! he no look at de soldier. When de king 
of France ride out in de coach royale wid de supeerb 
horses, and harness shining so bright all vun like gold 
if he run over one soldier, you tink he going stopy for 
dat } No, sacra foutre he ride on so, all one like if 
nothing at all been happen, yaun foutre de soldier ! let 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



73 



him prtnez garde for himself ; by gar the grand Monar- 
quc no mind dat, De grand Monayqne only tink of de 
soldier comnie de chicns, like de poor dam dog for fight 
for him." 

Thus ended the dialogue between Colonel Laurens 
and the count D' Estang. 

The next day, the memorable twenty-four hours 
being expired, a flag was sent into town to know the 
determination of the British officer, who very politely 
replied, that having consulted his pillow, he had made 
up his mind to defend the place. A regular siege was 
then commenced, and continued for three weeks : at 
the end of which an attack was made, and with the suc- 
cess which Marion had all along predicted. After a 
full hour's exposure to the destructive rage of grape 
shot and musketry, we were obliged to make a precipi- 
tate retreat ; leaving the ground covered with the 
mingled carcasses of 400 Americans and 800 French- 
men. Marion's corps fighting with their usual confi 
dence, suffered great loss ; himself did not receive a 
scratch. Colonel Laurens raged like a wounded lion. 
Soon as the retreat was ordered he paused, and looking 
round on his fallen men, cried out, " Poor fellows, I 
envy you," then hurling his sword in wrath against the 
ground, he retired. Presently, after we had reached 
our encampment, he came to my marquee, and like one 
greatly disordered, said, " Horry, my life is a burden 
to me ; I would to God I was lying on yonder field at 
rest with my poor men ! " 

" No ! no ! none of that, colonel, " said I, " none 



74 THE LIFE OF 

of that ; I trust we shall live to pay them yet fo rail 
this." 

And so it turned out. And though for humanity's 
sake, I ought not to boast of it, yet we did live to pay 
them for it, and often too : and in the same bloody 
coin which they gave us that day. And although in 
that fiery season of my days, and when my dear country 
was in danger, it was but natural for me to rejoice in 
the downfall of my enemies, yet I was often witness to 
scenes, which to this day I can never think of but with 
sorrow — as when, for example, after dashing upon an 
enemy by surprise, and cutting one half of them to 
pieces and chasing the rest, we returned to collect the 
horses and arms of the slain. Who I say, without 
grief could behold those sad sights which then offered 
themselves, of human beings lying mangled over the 
crimson ground — some stone dead, some still alive and 
struggling, with brains oozing from their cloven skulls — 
and others sitting up, or leaning on their elbows, but 
.pale with loss of blood, running in streams from their 
mortal wounds, and they themselves looking down, 
the while, sadly thinking of home and of distant wives 
and children, whom they shall never see again. 

Such thoughts, if often cherished, would much 
abate the rancor of malice in the hearts of those whose 
sad destiny it is to kill one another ; especially if it 
were known how short sometimes are the triumphs oi 
the victor. It was remarkably so in the present case: 
for Colonel Maitland, of the Highlanders, who had 
contributed a large part to this very unexpected victory, 
was so elated by it, that he took to hard drinking, and 



GEi'T, FRANCIS MERION. 75 

killed himself in a single week and the sickly season 
coming on, the greater part of the garrison perished 
of the yellow or bilious fever. 

Thus friends and foes the same sad fortune snared, 
And sickness swallowed whom the swords had spared. 

Many gallant men were the victims of count D' Es- 
tang's folly in this affair ; among the number was that 
impetuous Polander, the count Polaski. 

But none fell more universally lamented than the 
heroic Jasper. Every reader must wish to hear the 
last of this brave and generous soldier. And they shall 
have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by him 
when he received his death wounds ; and I was with 
him when he breathed his last. 

Early in the action, the elegant colors presented 
by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's 
works ; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot 
where they waved. During the whole of the bloody 
fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing 
the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his colors, 
and in that desperate act, was mortally wounded. As 
he passed by me, with the colors in his hands, I obser- 
ved he had a bad limp in his walk. 

" You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I. 

** Yes, major," he replied, " I believe I have got 
my furlough." 

" Pshaw," quoth I, " furlough indeed, for what } " 

" Why to go home," he answered, '* to go to Hea- 
ven, I hope." 

" Pooh ! " said I, and having, as the reader must 



76 THE LIFE OF 

suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off and 
left him. However, his words made such an impres- 
sion on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to see 
him, and found too true what he had predicted : the 
ball had opened a blood vessel in the lungs which no 
art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but certain 
death. 

As I entered the tent, he lifted hes eyes to me, but 
their fire was almost quenched ; and stretching his 
feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, " Well, 
major, I told you I had got my furlough." 

" I hope not," I replied. 

" O yes !" said he, "I am going — and very fast too ; 
but, thank God, I am not afraid to go." 

I told him I knew he was too brave to fear death, 
and too honest to be alarmed about its consequences. 

" Why, as to that matter, sir," said he, ^' I won't 
brag: but I have my hopes, notwithstanding I may 
be wrong, for I know I am but a poor ignorant body, 
but somehow or other, I have always built my hopes of 
what God may do for me hereafter, on what he has done 
for me here ! " 

I told him I thought he was very correct in that. 

" Do you, indeed ! " said he. " Well, I am mighty 
glad of that — and now major, here's the way I always 
comfort myself : Fifty years ago, (I say to myself,) I 
was nothing, and had no thought that there was any 
such grand and beautiful world as this. But still there 
was such a world notwithstanding ; and here God has 
brought me into it. Now, can't he, in fifty years more, 
or indeed in fifty minutes more, bring me into another 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



11 



world, as much above this as this is above that state of 
nothing, wherein I was fifty years ago ? " 

I told him that this was, to my mind, a very happy 
way of reasoning ; and such, no doubt, as suited the 
greatness and goodness of God. 

" I think so, major," said he, " and I trust I shall find 
it so; for though I've been a man of blood, yet, thank 
God, I've always lived with an eye to that great hope. 
My mother, major, was a good woman ; when I was but 
a child, and sat on her lap, she used to talk to me of 
God, and tell how it was he who built this great world, 
with all its riches and good things : and not for himself, 
but for me ! and also, that if I would but do his vv^ll in 
that only acceptable way, a good life, he would do still 
greater and better things for me hereafter. 

" Well, major, from the mouth of a dear mother, 
like her, these things went so deep into my heart, that 
they could never be taken away from me. I have hard- 
ly ever gone to bed, or got up again, without saying my 
prayers. I have honored my father and mother ; and, 
thank God, been strictly honest. And since you have 
known me, major, I believe you can bear witness, that 
though a strong man, I never was quarrelsome." 

I told him, nothing afforded me more satisfaction, 
than to remember that, since he was now going to die, 
he had always led so good a life. 

He answered, with tears in his eyes, that he had a 
good hope he was going where he should not do what 
he had been obliged to do in this world. " I've killed 
men in my time, major, but not in malice, but in what 
I thought a just war in defence of my country. And 



78 THE LIFE OF 

as I bore no malice against those I killed, neither do 
I bear any against those who have killed me. And I 
heartily trust in God for Christ's sake, that we shall yet 
one day, meet together, where we shall forgive and love 
one another like brothers. I own, indeed, major, that 
had it so pleased God, I should have been glad to stay 
a little longer with you to fight for my country. But 
however, I humbly hope that my death is of God : which 
makes it welcome to me, and so I bow me to his blessed 
will. And now, my good friend, as I feel I have but a 
little time to liv^e, I beg you will do a few things for me 
when I am dead and gone." 

I could not speak : but gathering my answer from 
my tears, and the close press I gave his hand, he thus 
went on, but it was in a low voice and laborious, 

" You see that sword } It is the one which Gover- 
nor Rutledge presented to me for my service at Fort 
Moultrie — give that sword to my father and tell him I 
never dishonored it. If he should weep for me, tell him 
his son died in hope of a better life. If you should see 
that great gentlewoman, Mrs. Elliot, tell her I lost my 
life in saving the colors she gave to our regiment. And 
if ever you should come across poor Jones and his wife, 
and little boy, tell them Jasper is gone : but that the re- 
membrance of the hard battle which he once fought for 
their sakes brought a secret joy to his heart just as it 
was about to stop its motion for ever." 

He spoke these last words in a livelier tone than 
usual, but it was like the last kindling of the taper in its 
oil-less socket — for instantly the paleness of death over- 
spread his face, and after a feeble effort to vomit, with 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ^^ 

convulsion, the natural effect of great loss of blood, he 
sunk back and expired' 

From this victim of D'Estang's madness, I went 
with a heavy heart on parade, to take a review of the 
sad remains of the battle. The call of the roll com- 
pleted the depression of my spirits. To every fourth or 
fifth name there was no answer — the gloomy silence 
which ensued, told us where they were. About twelve 
o'clock we sent in a flag to the garrison for permission 
to bury our dead. Curiosity led me to accompany the 
party destined to this mournful duty. I had prepared 
myself for a sorrowful sight ; but ah ! what words can 
express what I then saw and suffered ! 

A scattered few lay here and there on the utmost 
verge of the field, killed by cannon shot, and so man. 
gled, that in some instances, it was hard to tell who they 
were. As we advanced, they lay thicker and thicker. 
Some, not quite dead, were constantly crying, " Water \ 
water ! — Oh ! for God's sake, a Httle water ! " Others 
lay quite dead, but still their lifeless visages retained the 
dark frowns of war. There, on the side of the enemy's 
breastwork, lay the brave Ensign Boushe, covering 
with his dead body, the very spot v/here he had fixed 
the American standard. His face was pale and cold as 
the earth he pressed, but still it spoke the fierce deter- 
mined air of one whose last sentiment towards those 
degenerate Britons was, " There d — n you ! look at the 
stripes of hberty." 

Close by Ensign Boushe, lay that elegant young 
man, Alexander Hume, Esq., with his sword still grasped 
in his stiffened fingers. My heart bled within me, when 



8o THE LIFE OF 

I looked on young Hume, where he lay in all the pale 
beauties of death. He was to have been married the 
week following, to a charming woman ; but such was his 
zeal to serve his country, that he came a volunteer to 
our camp, and met his death the next morning after he 
joined us. Gifted with a pretty taste for painting, he 
had tried his skill, and very successfully too, in sketching 
the likeness of his lovely mistress. For on opening his 
bosom, was found, suspended by a blue ribbon, (the 
i;:ippy lover's color) a fine likeness of the beautiful 

Miss : the back of the portrait was stained with 

his blood ; but unconscious of her lover's fate, she still 
wore the enchanting smile with which yielding beauty 
views the youth she loves. 

We then proceeded to bury our dead ; which was 
done by digging large pits, sufficient to contain about a 
hundred corpses. Then taking off their clothes, with 
heavy hearts, we threw them into the pits, with very 
little regard to order, and covered them over with 
earth. 

Poor brothers, farewell ! the storm of your last 
battle has long ago ceased on the field, and no trace now 
remains on earth that you ever lived. The worms have 
devoured your flesh ; and the mounds raised over your 
dust, are sunk back to the common level with the plain. 
But ah ! could your mournful story be read, the youth of 
America would listen to the last words of Washinsfton. 
and ^* study the art of war," that their countrymen might 
no more be murdered by military quacks. 

As a hint to American officers, I think it my duty 
to state the following fact : Our fatal attack on Sa- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. gi 

vannah was made very early in the morning. A few 
hours previous thereto, a council of war was held ; 
and while it was deliberating, a deserter and spy had 
the a'ddress to bear a musket, as sentinel at the door 
of the marquee ! On hearing where the attack was 
to be made, he ran off in the dark, and gave such in- 
telligence to the enemy, as enabled them very com- 
pletely to defeat us. The fellow was afterwards taken 
at the battle of Hobkirk Hill, near Camden, and hung. 

Scarcely had we finished burying the dead, before 
the count D'Estang hurried on board his ships with 
his troops and artillery, while we, passing on in silence 
by the way of Zubley's ferry, returned to Carolina, and 
pitched our tents at Sheldon, the country seat of Gen- 
eral Bull. 

The theatre of war being, from this period, and for 
some time at least, removed to the northern states, the 
governor and council were pleased to reduce the regi- 
ments and dismiss the supernumerary officers. To 
some of my brethren in arms, this was matter of serious 
alarm. But for myself, possessing, thank God, a lib- 
eral fortune in the country, and feeling no attraction 
to the camp, except when drawn thither by public 
danger, I was quite happy to hear of this new arrange- 
ment, and waited on his excellency to return my com- 
mission. 

Perhaps some may say it was pride in me, and that 
I did not like the idea of being unfrocked. Why, as to 
that matter, it is not for me to boast of my standing 
among my superiors in those days. But this I must- 
needs say, that it is joy enough, and glory enough too 

6 



82 THE LIFE OF 

for me to know, that I was always the favorite of the 
great Marion ; and that he seldom ever asked the 
lightning of any other sword than mine, to lead his 
squadron to the charge. However, the moment I 
heard, as above, that it was in agitation to reduce the 
regiments, I waited on the governor, and begged that, 
as there was nothing doing, he would allow me to return 
to my plantation. To my plantation I did return, and 
there continued till spring, 1780, when Charleston was 
taken by the British , at which time, and for some 
weeks before, I was grievously afflicted with the rheuma- 
tism. Thus by a providence, which, I confess, I did 
not at that time altogether like, I was kindly saved 
from being kidnapped by the enemy, and also intro- 
duced into a field of some little service, I hope, to my 
country, and of no great dishonor to myself. How- 
ever, be this as it may, the reader shall soon see, and 
then let him judge for himself. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 83 



CHAPTER IX, 



Providential escape of Marion out of Charleston — the British fleet and 
army invest and fake that place— Tarleton and the British officers 
begin to let out — young Scotch Macdonald comes upon the turf — ex- 
traordinary anecdote of him — plays a very curious trick on a rich 
old tory. 

How happy it is for man, that the author of his 
being loves him so much better than he loves himself ; 
and has established so close a connection between 
his duty and his advantage. This delightful truth was 
remarkably exemplefied in an event that befel Marion 
about this time, March, 1 780. Dining with a squad of 
choice whigs, in Charleston, in the house of Mr. 
Alexander M'Queen, Tradd street, he was so frequently 
pressed to bumpers of old wine, that he found himself 
in a fair way to get drunk. 'Twas in vain he attempted 
to beat a retreat. The company swore, that that 
would never do for General Marion. Finding, at last, 
til at there was no other way of escaping a debauch, 
but by leaping out of one of the windows of the dining- 
room, which was on the second story, he bravely 
undertook it. It cost him, however, a broken ankle. 
When the story got about in Charleston, most people 
said he was a great fool for his pains ; but the event 
soon proved that Marion was in the right, and that 



84 



THE LIFE OF 



there is no policy like sticking to a man's duty. For, 
behold ! presently Charleston was invested by a large 
British army, and the American general (Lincoln) 
finding Marion was utterly unfit for duty, advised him 
to push off in a litter to his seat in St. John's parish. 
Thus providentially was Marion preserved to his coun- 
try when Charleston fell, as it soon did, with all our 
troops. 

The spirits of the British were so raised by the 
capture of our metropolis with all the southern army 
that they presently began to scour the neighboring 
country. And never victors, perhaps, had a country 
more completely in their power. Their troops were 
of the choicest kind ; excellently equipped, and com- 
manded by active, ambitious young fellows, who looked 
on themselves as on the high road to fortune among the 
conquered rebels. They all carried with them pocket 
maps of South Carolina, on which they were constantly 
poring like young spendthrifts on their father's lasc 
testaments. They would also ask a world of questions, 
such as, "where lay the richest lands ? and the finest 
situations } and who were the warmest old fellows, and 
had the finest girls } " and when answered to their humor, 
they would break out into hearty laughs ; and flourish 
their swords, and whoop and hoic it away like young 
fox-hunters, just striking on a fresh trail. 

Some of them had Dr. Madan's famous book called 
" Thylipthora, or a Defence of Polygamy," with which 
they were prodigiously taken, and talked very freely of 
reducing the system to practice. Cornwallis, it seems 
was to be a bashaw of three tails — Rawdgn and Tarle- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 85 

ton, of two each — and as a natural appendage of such 
high rank, they were to have their seragUos and harems 
filled with the greatest beauties of the country. 

** Huzza, my brave fellows ! " they would say to 
each other ; '' one more campaign and the hash will be 
settled with the d — d rebels, and then stand by the girls ! 
— stand by the Miss Pickneys ! and Elliots ! and Rut- 
ledges ! and all your bright-eyed, soft-bosomed, 
lovely dames, look sharp ! Egad ! your charms shall 
reward our valor ! like the grand Turk, we'll have regi- 
ments of our own raising ! Charleston shall be our 
Constantinople ! and our Circassia, this sweet Carolina 
famed for beauties ! Prepare the baths, the perfumes, 
and spices ! bring forth the violins and the rosebuds ! 
and tap the old Madeira, that our souls may all be 
joy!" 

'Twas in this way they would rant ; and then, bright- 
ened up to the pitch, they would look and grin on each 
other as sweetly as young foxes, who, prowling round a 
farmyard, had suddenly heard the cackling of the rooster 
pullets. The reader shall presently see the violent and 
bloody course of these ruffians, who did such dishonor to 
the glorious island they came from. But before I begin 
my tragedy, I beg leave, by way of prologue, to entertain 
him a moment with a very curious farce that was acted 
on a wealthy old tory, near Monk's Corner, while Colonel 
Tarleton with the British advance, lay there. 

The hero of the play was a remarkably stout, red- 
haired young Scotsman, named Macdonald, son of the 
MaCdonald of famous defeat at Morris Creek Bridge, 
North Carolina. Soon after the defeat of his father 



86 THE LIFE OF 

he came and joined our troops. Led by curiosity, I 
could not help, one day, asking him the reason : to 
which he made, in substance, the following reply. 

" Immediately on the misfortune of my father and 
his friends at the Great Bridge, I fell to thinking what 
could be the cause ; and then it struck me that it must 
have been owing to their own monstrous ingratitude. 
" Here now," said I to myself, " is a parcel of people, 
meaning my poor father and his friends, who fled from 
the murderous swords of the English after the massacre 
at Culloden. Well, they came to America, with hardly 
anything but their poverty and mournful looks. But 
among this friendly people that was enough. Every 
eye that saw us, had pity ; and every hand was reached 
out to assist. They received us in their houses as 
though we had been their own unfortunate brothers. 
They kindled high their hospitable fires for us, and 
spread their feasts, and bid us eat and drink and banish 
our sorrows, for that we were in a land of friends. And 
so indeed, v^e found it ; for whenever we told of the 
woful battle of Culloden, and how the English gave no 
quarter to our unfortunate countrymen, but butchered 
all they could overtake, these generous people often gave 
us their tears, and said, " O ! that we had been there to 
aid with our rifles, then should many of these monsters 
have bit the ground." They received us into the bosoms 
of their peaceful forests, and gave us their lands and 
their beauteous daughters in marriage, and we became 
rich. And yet, after all, soon as the English came to 
America, to murder this innocent people, merely for re- 
fusing to be their slaves, then my father and friends. 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 87 

forgetting all that the Americans had done for them, 
went and joined the British, to assist them to cut the 
throats of their best friends ! 

" * Now,' said I to myself, ' if ever there was a time 
for God to stand up to punish ingratitude, this was the 
time.' And God did stand up : for he enabled the 
Americans to defeat my father and his friends most 
completely. But, instead of murdering the prisoners 
as the English had done at Culloden, they treated us 
with their usual generosity. And now these are the 
people I love and will fight for as long as I live." And 
so he did fight for us, and as undauntedly too as George 
Washington ever did. 

This was young Scotch Macdonald. Now the curi- 
ous trick which he played, is as follows. 

Soon as he heard that Colonel Tarleton was en- 
camped at Monk's Corner, he went the next morning 
to a wealthy old tory of that neighborhood, and passing 
himself for a sergeant of Colonel Tarleton's corps, pre- 
sented that officer's compliments, adding that Colonel 
Tarleton was just come to drive the rebels out of the 
country, and knowing him to be a good friend of the king, 
begged he would send him one of his best horses for a 
charger, and that he should be no loser by it. 

" Send him one of my finest horses ! " cried the old 
traitor with eyes sparkling with joy ; " Yes, Mr. Ser- 
geant,, that I will, by gad ! and would send him one of 
my finest daughters too, had he but said the word. A 
good friend of the king, did he call me, Mr. Sergeant ? 
yes, God save his sacred majesty, a good friend I am 
indeed, and a true. And, faith, I am glad too, Mr. Ser- 



88 THE LIFE OF 

geant, that colonel knows it. Send him a charger to 
drive the rebels, hey ? Yes, egad will I send him one, 
and as proper a one too as ever a soldier straddled. Dick ! 
Dick ! I say you Dick ! " 

" Here, massa, here ! here Dick ! " 

" Oh, you plaguy dog ! so I must always split my 
throat with bawling, before I can get you to answer 
hey ? " 

" High, massa ! sure Dick always answer when he 
hear massa hallo ! " 

" You do, you villain, do you ?" Well then run ! 
junp, fly, you rascal, fly to the stable, and bring me out 
Selim, my young Selim ! do you hear ? you villain, do 
you hear ? " 

"Yes, massa, be sure ! " 

Then turning to Macdonald, he went on : " Well, 
Mr. Sergeant, you have made me confounded glad this 
morning, you may depend. And now suppose you take 
a glass of peach ; of good old peach, Mr. Sergeant } do 
you think it would do you any harm .'' " 

" Why, they say it is good of a rainy morning, sir," 
replied Macdonald. 

" O yes, famous of a rainy morning, Mr. Sergeant ! 
a mighty antifogmatic. It prevents you the ague, Mr. 
Sergeant; and clears a man's throat of the cobwebs, sir." 

" God bless your honor ! " said Macdonald, as he 
turned off a bumper of the high-beaded cordial. 

But scarcely had he smacked his lips, before Dick 
paraded Selim ; a proud, full-blooded, stately steed, that 
stepped as though he disdained the earth he walked 
upon. 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 



89 



Here the old fellow brightening up, broke out again : 
" Aye ! there, Mr. Sergeant, there is a horse for you ! 
isn't he, my boy ? " 

" Faith, a noble animal, sir," replied Macdonald. 

" Yes, egad ! a noble animal indeed ; a charger for 
a king, Mr, Sergeant ! Well, my compliments to Col- 
onel Tarleton : tell him Fve sent him a horse, my young 
Selim, my grand Turk, do you hear, my son of thunder? 
And say to the colonel that I don't grudge him neither, 
for egad ! he's too noble for me, Mr. Sergeant, /ve no 
work that's fit for him, sir ; no ! damme, sir, if there's 
any work in all this country that's good enough for him 
but just that which he is now going on; the driving the 
d — d rebels out of the land." 

And in order to send Selim off in high style, he 
ordered Dick to bring down his elegant new saddle and 
holsters, with his silver-mounted pistols. Then giving 
Macdonald a hot breakfast, and lendino^ him his great 
coat, as it was raining, he let him go, with a promise 
that he would come next morning and see how Colonel 
Tarleton liked young Selim. 

Accordingly next morning he waited on Colonel 
Tarleton, and told his name, with the smiling counte- 
nance of one who expected to be eaten up with fond- 
ness. But alas ! to his infinite mortification, Tarleton 
heard his name without the least change of feature. 

After recovering a little from his embarassment he 
asked Colonel Tarleton how he liked his charger. 

" Charger, sir } " replied Tarleton. 

" Yes, sir, the elegant horse I sent you yesterday.*' 

"The elegant horse you sent me, sir } " 



go THE LIFE OF 

" Yes, sir, and by your sergeant, sir, as he called 
himself." 

" An elegant horse ! and by my sergeant ? Why 
really, sir, I-I-I don't understand all this.' 

The looks and voice of Colonel Tarleton too sadly 
convinced the old traitor that he had been bit ; and that 
young Selim was gone ! then trembling and pale, he cried 
out, " Why, my dear, good sir, did you not send a ser- 
geant yesterday with your compliments to me, and a 
request that I would send you my very best horse for- a 
charger, which I did ? " 

"No, sir, never !" replied Tarleton: "I never sent 
a sergeant on any such errand. Nor till this moment 
did I ever know that there existed on earth such a be- 
ing as you." 

To have been outwitted in this manner by a rebel 
sergeant — to have lost his peach brandy — his hot break- 
fast — his great coat — his new saddle — his silver mounted 
pistols — and worst than all, his darling horse, his young 
full-blooded, bounding Selim — all these keen reflections, 
like so many forked lightnings falling at once on the 
train and tinder of his passions, blew them up to such a 
diabolical rage that the old sinner had like to have 
been suffocated on the spot. He turned black in the 
face ; he shook throughout ; and as soon as he could 
recover breath and power of speech, he broke out into a 
torrent of curses, enough to raise the hair on any Chris- 
tian man's head. 

Nor was Colonel Tarleton much behind him, when 
he came to learn what a noble horse had slipped through 
his hands. And a noble horse he was indeed ! Full 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ^I 

sixteen hands high ; the eye of a hawk, the spirit of the 
king eagle ; a chest like a lion ; swifter than a roebuck, 
and strong as a buffalo. 

I asked Macdonald, how he could reconcile it to 
himself to take the old poltroon's horse in that way ? 

" Why, sir," replied he, " as to that matter, people 
will think differently ; but for my part I hold that all 
is fair in war : and besides sir, if I had not taken him 
Colonel Tarleton, no doubt, would have got him. And 
then, with such a swift strong charger as this he might 
do us as much harm as I hope to do them." 

And he did do them harm with a vengeance ; for he 
had no more sense of fear than a hungry tiger. And, 
as to his strength, it was such, that with one of Potter's 
blades he would make no more to drive through cap and 
skull of a British dragoon, than a boy would, with a 
case-knife, to chip off the head of a carrot. And then, 
he always kept Selim up so lustily to the top of his metal. 
He was so fond of him, that I verily believe he would 
at any time have sold the shirt off his back to get 
corn for him. And truly Selim was not much his 
debtor ; for, at the first flash and glimpse of a red-coat, 
he would paw and champ his iron bit with rage ; and 
the moment he heard the word " go," off he was among 
them like a thunder-bolt. 

And to see how Macdonald would charge, you would 
swear the fear of death was never before his eyes. 
Whether it was one or ten against him, it made no odds 
to this gallant Scotsman. He never stopped to count 
noses, but would dash in upon the thickest of them, and 
fall to hewing and cutting down like a very fury incarnate. 



92 



THE LIFE OF 



Poor Macdonald ! the arm of his strength is now in 
dust ; and his large red cheeks have, long ago been 
food for worms : but never shall I forget when first I 
saw him fight. 'Twas in the days when the British 
held Georgetown ; and Marion had said to me, " Go 
and reconnoitre." I took only Macdonald with me. 
Before day we reached our place of concealment, a thick 
clump of pines near the road, and in full view of the 
enemy's lines. Soon as the bonny gray-eyed morning 
began to peep, we heard the town all alive as it were, 
with drums and fifes ; and about sunrise, beheld five 
dragoons turn out, and with prancing steeds dash up 
the road towards us. I turned my eye on Macdonald, 
and saw his face all kindled up with the joy of battle. 
It was like that terrible joy which flashes from the eyes 
of a ambushed lion, when he beholds the coming forth 
of the buffaloes towards his gloomy cave. " Zounds, 
Macdonald," said I, " here's an odds against us, five to 
two." " By my soul now captain," he replied, "and let 
'em come on. Three are welcome to the sword of Mac- 
donald." 

Soon as they were come fairly opposite to us, we 
gave them a blast from our bugles, and with drawn 
sabres broke in upon them like a tornado. 

Their panic was complete ; two we stopped, over- 
thrown and weltering in the road. The remaining three 
wheeled about, and taking to their heels, went off as if 
old Nick had been bringing up the rear. Then you 
rni^ht have heard the roar, and seen the dust, which 
dra^Toons can raise, when, with whip and spur and wildly 
rolling eyes, they bend forward from the pursuit of 



GEiV. FRANCIS MARION. q3 

death. My charger being but a heavy brute, was soon 
distanced. But they could not distance the swift-footed 
Selim. Rapid as the deadly blast of the desert, he pur- 
sued their dusty course, still gathering upon them at 
every jump. And before they could reach the town* 
though so near, he brought his furious rider alongside of 
two of them, whom he cut down. One hundred yards 
further, and the third also would have been slain ; for 
Macdonald, with his crimson claymore, was within a few 
steps of him, when the guns of the fort compelled him 
to retire. However, though quickly pursued by the 
enemy, he had the address to bring off an elegant horse 
of one of the dragoons whom he had killed. 



94 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER X 

The abomination and desolation set up in South Carolina — ^the author 
with sorrowful heart, quits his native land, and flies to the north in 
quest of warlike friends — ^fortunate rencontre with his gallant friend 
Colonel Marion — curious adventures. 

After the capture of Charleston, with all our troops, 
the British, as aforesaid, began to spread themselves 
over the country. Then was exhibited a spectacle, 
which for sadness and alarm, ought never to be forgot- 
ten by the people of America. I mean how easy a thing 
it is for a small body of soldiers to overrun a populous 
and powerful country. The British did not, after Sir 
Henry Clinton's return to New York, exceed three 
thousand men ; and South Carolina alone, at the lowest 
computation, must have contained fifty thousand ! and 
yet this host of poor honest men were made to tremble 
before that handful of ruffians, as a flock of sheep before 
the wolf or a household of little children before a dark 
frowning pedagogue. The reason is immensely plain. 
The British were all embodied and firm as a rock of 
granite ; the Carolinians were scattered over the country 
loose as a rope of sand : the British all well armed and 
disciplined, moved in dreadful harmony, giving their 
fire like a volcano : the Carolinians, with no other than 
birding pieces, and strangers to the art of war, were 



GEN.' FRANCIS MARION. 



95 



comparatively feeble, as a. forest of glowworms : the 
British, though but units in number, were so artfully 
arranged that they told for myriads ; while, for lack of 
unity, the Carolinians, though numerous as myriads, 
passed only for ciphers. In short, the British were a 
handful of hawks ; the poor Carolinians a swarm of rice- 
birds, and rather than be plucked to the pin-feather, or 
picked to the bone, they and their little ones, they were 
fain to flatter those furious falcons, and ofttimes to 
chirp and sing when they were much in the humor to 
hate and curse. 

Oh ! blind indeed, and doubly blind is that people, 
and well worthy of iron yokes, who, enjoying all the 
sweets of liberty, in a land of milk and honey, can ex- 
pose to foreign Philistines, that blessed Canaan, un- 
guarded by military science. Surely those who thus 
throw " their pearl before swine," richly deserve that 
the beast should turn again and trample them, and their 
treasures too, into the mire. Yes, and had it not been 
for a better watch than our own, at this day, like the 
wretched Irish, we should have been trampled into the 
mire of slavery ; groaning under heavy burdens to en- 
rich our taskmasters ; and doomed on every fruitless 
attempt at freedom, to fatten the buzzards with our gib- 
beted carcasses. 

For lack of this habitual military preparation on our 
part, in a few days after the fall of Charleston, Colonel. 
Tarleton, with only one hundred and fifty horse, galloped 
up to Georgetown, through the most populous part of 
the state, with as much hauteur as an overseer and his 
boys would gallop through a negro plantation ! To me 



9^ 



THE LUE OF 



this was the signal for clearing out. Accordingly, 
though still in much pain from the rheumatism, I 
mounted my horse, and with sword and pistol by my 
side, set out for the northward, in quest of friendly 
powers to aid our fallen cause. In passing through 
Georgetown, I saw a distant group of people, to whom I 
rode up, and with great civility, as I thought, asked the 
news. To which a young fellow very scornfully replied, 
that " Colonel Tarleton was coming, and that the 
country, thank God, would soon be cleared of the con- 
tinental colonels." 

I was within an ace of drawing a pistol and shoot 
ing the young slave dead upon the spot. But God was 
pleased to give me patience to bear up under that 
heavy cross ; for which I have since very heartily 
thanked him a thousand times and more. And indeed, 
thinking over the matter, it has often struck me, that 
the man who could speak in that way to one who had 
on, as he saw, the American uniform, must be a sav- 
age, and therefore not an object of anger, but of pity. 
But though my anger was soon over, nothing could 
cure the melancholy into which this affair threw me. 
To see my native country thus prostrate under foreign 
usurpers, the generality quite disheartened, and the 
few, who dared to take her part, thus publicly insulted, 
was a shock I was not prepared for, and which, there- 
fore, sunk my spirits to the lowest ebb of despondence. 
Such was the frame of mind wherein I left my native 
state, and set out, sick and alone, for the northward, 
with scarce a hope of ever seeing better days. About 
the middle of the second day, as I beat my solitary 



GEN. l-kAN'^IS MA K ION a- 

J I 

road, slowly winding through the silent, gloomy woods 
of North Carolina, I discovered, just before me, a stran- 
ger and his servant. Instantly my heart sprang afresh 
for the pleasures of society, and quickening my pace, 
I soon overtook the gentleman, when lo ! who should 
it be but the man first of all in my wishes, though 
the last in my expectations ; who, I say, should it be 
but Marion ! Our mutual surprise was great. " Good 
heavens ! " we both exclaimed in the same moment, " Is 
that Colonel Marion ? " *' Is that Horry ? '' After the 
first transports of that joy, which those who have been 
long absent from dear friends, can better conceive 
than I describe, we began to inquire into each other's 
destination, which was found to be the same ; both 
flying to the north for troops to fight the British. We 
had not rode far when Marion, after looking up to the 
sun who was now past his half-way house, came suddenly 
to a halt, and said, " Well, come Horry, I feel both 
peckish and weary, and here is a fine shade, so let us 
go down and rest, and refresh ourselves awhile." 

Whereupon I dismounted ; and with the help of 
his servant, for his ankle was yet very crazy, got him 
down too. Then, sitting side by side, on the trunk 
of a fallen pine, we talked over the mournful state of 
our country; and came at last, as we had always done, 
to this solemn conclusion, that we would stand by her 
like true children, and either conquer or die with her. 

After this, a piece of dried beef was paraded, from 
Marion's saddle-bags, with a loaf of Indian bread and 
a bottle of brandy. The wealthy reader may smile at 
this bill of fare ; but to me it was a feast indeed. For 

7 



^8 THE LIFE OF 

joy, like a cordial, had so raised my spirits, and re- 
invigorated my system, that I fed like a thresher. 

I shall never forget an expression which Marion 
let fall during our repast, and which, as things have 
turned out, clearly shows what an intimate acquaint- 
ance he had with human nature. I happened to say 
that I was afraid " our happy days were all gone." 

" Pshaw, Horry, " he replied, " don't give way to 
such idle fears. Our happy days are not all gone. On 
the contrary, the victory is still sure. The enemy, it 
is true, have all the trumps in their hands, and if 
they had but spirit to play a generous game would 
certainly ruin us. But they have no idea of that game ; 
but will treat the people cruelly. And that one thing 
will ruin them, and save America." 

" I pray God, " said I, " it may be so. " 

"^ Well, don't be afraid, " replied he, *' you will as- 
suredly see it." 

Having despatched our simple dinner, we mounted 
again and pursued our journey, but with feelings so 
different from what I had before this meeting, as made 
me more sensible than ever what a divine thing friend- 
ship is. And well indeed it was for us that our hearts 
were so rich in friendships, for our pockets were as 
bare of gold and silver as if there were no such metals 
on earth. And but for carrying a knife, or a horse- 
fleam, or a gun-flint, we had no more use for a pocket 
than a Highlander has for a knee-buckle. As to hard 
money, we had not seen a dollar for years ; and of old 
continental, bad as it was, we had received but little, 
and that little was gone away like a flash ; as the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 99 

reader many well suppose, when he comes to learn, that 
a bottle of rum would sweep fifty dollars. 

And so here were two continental colonels of us, 
just started on a journey of several hundred miles, 
without a cent in pocket ! But though poor in gold, 
we were rich in faith. Burning patriots ourselves, we 
had counted on it as a certainty, that everybody we 
met, out of reach of the British, were as fiery as we, 
and that the first sight of our uniforms would com- 
mand smiling countenances, and hot suppers, and downy 
beds, and mint slings ; and in shorr, everything that 
our hearts could wish. But, alas and alack the mis- 
take ! For instead of being smiled on everywhere 
along the road as the champions of liberty, we were 
often grinned at as if we had been horse thieves. In 
place of being hailed with benedictions, we were fre- 
quently in danger from the brickbats ; and in lieu of 
hot dinners and suppers, we were actually on the point 
of starving, both we and our horses ! For in conse- 
quence of candidly telling the publicans that, " we bad 
nothing to pay," they as candidly declared, " they had 
nothing to give," and that " those that had no money 
had no business to travel." At length we came to the 
resolution to say nothing about our poverty, but, after 
getting such things as we wanted, to give our due bills. 
In this we felt ourselves perfectly warranted ; for we 
had, both of us, thank God, very sufficient estates ; 
and besides, turning out, as we did, to fight for our 
country, we thought we had, even by sacred precept, a 
very fair claim on that country for a little food. 

I remember, one evening, after dark, we reached a 



lOo THE LIFE OF 

tavern, the owner of which at first seemed very fond 
of accommodating us. But as soon as a lighted wood 
torch had given him a glimpse of our regimentals, 
the rogue began to hem and ha, to tell us of a mighty 
fine tavern about five miles further on. 

We begged him to recollect that it was night, and 
also very rainy, and as dark as pitch. 

" Oh ! " quot he, " the road is mighty plain ; you 
can't miss your way.'' 

" But consider, sir, we are strangers." 

" Oh ! I never liked strangers in all my life." 

" But, sir, we are your countrymen, American 
officers, going to the north for men to fight your battles." 

" Oh ! I wants nobody to fight my battles ; king 
George is good enough for me." 

" But, sir, we have travelled all day long without 
a mouthful for ourselves or horses." 

To this also the brute was preparing some fit an- 
swer, when his wife, who appeared to be a very gen- 
teel woman, with a couple of charming girls, her 
daughters, ran out and declared that " take us in he 
could, and should, that he should ; and that he might 
as well consent at first, for they would not be said 
nay." 

Even against all this, he stood out for some time ; 
till at length his wife reminded him, that though the 
British were carrying everything before them in South 
Carolina, yet that Washington was still in the field, 
and the issue of the war unknown ; and that at any 
rate it was good to have a friend at court. 

On this he came to a pause ; and at length reluc- 



GEN. FRAACIS MARION. lOi 

tantly drawled out, " Well — I suppose — you must — 
come — in." 

I have related this story, partly to show what a 
savage man would be without that softening, polishing 
friend, a good wife. 

Observing that we were wet and cold, this amiable 
woman and her daughters soon had kindled up for us a 
fine sparkling fire, to which their own sweetly smiling 
looks gave tenfold cheerfulness and comfort. And 
while the husband went poking about the house, si- 
lent and surly as an ill-natured slave, the ladies dis- 
played towards us the most endearing attentions. The 
mother brought out from her closet a bottle of nic« 
family cordial, to warm and cheer us : while the girls 
presented basins of water and towels, that we might 
wash and refresh ourselves after our fatigue. And 
all these seasonable hospitalities they did, not with 
that ungracious silence and reserve, which so often 
depress the traveller's spirits, but with the charming 
alacrity of daughters or sisters, so sweetening every 
thing with smiles and sprightly chat as almost made 
us feel ourselves at home. 

As with deep struck thought, I compared our pres- 
ent happy condition with that a few minutes before, 
benighted, wet, and weary, I could not help exclaim- 
ing, " O my God ! what pity it is that among so many 
labors which poor mortals take under the sun, they 
do not labor more for that which alone deserves their 
care. I mean that love, which at once diffuses and 
enjoys all the happiness both of earth and heaven." 

At supper, the poor creature of a husband strove 



I02 THE LIFE OF 

very hard to draw Marion into a dispute, about what 
he was pleased to call our "rebellion." I expect- 
ed to have heard him lashed very severely for such 
brutality ; for few men ever excelled Marion in the 
retort abrupt. But every time the subject was intro- 
duced, he contrived very handsomely to waive it, by 
some pretty turn to the ladies, which happily relieved 
their terrors, and gave a fresh spring to general and 
sprightly conversation. 

As our excellent hostess and her fair daughters 
were about to retire, we bade them good night, and 
also adieu, telling them that we meant to ride very 
early in the morning. To this they stoutly objected, 
urging that, from our fatigue and fasting, we ought to 
pass a day or two with them, and refresh ourselves. 
But if we could not do this, we must at any fate stay 
and give them the pleasure of our company at break- 
fast. 

When we retired to our chamber, I asked Marion 
why he had not given that brute, our landlord, a 
proper set down. 

" I am surprised at you, Horry," he replied ; " when 
you see that your fellow man is wretched, can't you 
give him quarter } You must have observed, ever 
since we darkened his door, that with spleen and tory- 
ism, this poor gentleman is in the condition of him in 
the parable, who was possessed of seven devils. Since 
we have not the power to cast them out, let us not 
torment him before his time. Besides, this excellent 
woman his wife ; these charming girls his daughters. 
They love him, no doubt, and therefore, to us, at 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 1 03 

least, he ought to be sacred, because surrounded by 
their affections." 

The next morning while breakfast was preparing 
the churl renewed his hostilities, by telling us, with 
a malignant pleasure in his face, that he and his 
neighbors were making ready to go to South Carolina 
for negroes. 

" For negroes ! " replied Marion ; ** pray sir, what 
do you mean by that ? " 

"Why, sir," returned he, "South Carolina is now 
all one as conquered by the British, and why may we 
not go and pick up what negroes we can ? They 
would help me in my cornfield yonder." 

Maaion asked him whether, if he were to find his 
negroes, he would think it right to take them ? 

" To be sure I would," answered he. " You great 
men who choose to fight against your king, are all 
now running away. And why may I not go and catch 
your negroes as well as anybody else } " 

" My God ! " replied Marion, with a deep sigh, 
" what will this world come to .-* " and turned the 
conversation. 

Soon as breakfast was over, we took leave of this 
most unequally yoked couple and their lovely daugh- 
ters, and continued our journey. We had not got far 
from the house when Marionis servant rode up, and, 
with as very smirking face, told his master that he be- 
lieved the gentlewoman where we stayed last night 
must be a monstrous fine lady ! Marion asked him 
why he thought so. " Why, sir," replied he, " she 



104 ^-^^ ^^^^ ^^ 

not only made me almost burst myself with eating 
and drinking, and all of the very best, but she has 
gone and filled my portmanteau too, filled it up chock 
full, sir ! A fine ham of bacon, sir, and a pair of 
roasted fowls, with two bottles of brandy, and a mat- 
ter of a peck of biscuit.'* 

" God bless the dear lady ! " we both exclaimed at 
the same moment. And I trust God did bless her. 
For indeed to us she was a kind angel, who not only 
refreshed our bodies, but still more, feasted our souls. 

And though eight and twenty long years have 
rolled away since that time, I can still see that angel 
smile which brightened on her face towards us, and 
the memory of which springs a joy in my heart be- 
yond what the memory of his money bags ever gave 
to the miser. 

On the evening of the same day that we left this 
charming family, (I mean the fairer part of it) we 
reached the house of Colonel Thatcher, one of the 
noblest whigs in North Carolina. His eyes seemed as 
though they would never tire in gazing on our regi- 
mentals. We soon gave him the history of our trav- 
els through his native state, and of the very uncivil 
manner in which his countrymen had treated us. He 
smiled, and bid us be thankful, for that it was en- 
tirely of God's mercy that we had come off so well. 
" Those people," continued he, " are mere Hot- 
tentots ; a set of unenlightened miserable tories, who 
know nothing of the grounds of the war ; nothing of 
the rights and blessings we are contending for ; nor 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 



'^5 



of the corruptions and cruelties of the British minis- 
try ; and are therefore just as ready to fall into their 
destructive jaws, as young cat-birds are to run into 
the mouth of a rattlesnake." 



lo6 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XI. 

Glorious news — ^a brave army of continentals coming up — Mar- 
ion and the author hasten to meet them at Roanoke — fortu- 
nately get introduced to the Baron de Kalb— polite reception 
by that amiable officer — curious and interesting conversation- 

After spending two days of very welcome re- > 
pose with the elegant Colonel Thatcher, we took leave 
and set out for Hillsborough, where we met General 
Huger and Colonel W. White, of the horse, who told 
us the glorious news, that " Washington had sent on 
a gallant detachment of continentals, who were now 
in full march to aid South Carolina." 

Our hearts leaped for joy at the news. So great 
was our impatience to see what our hearts had so long 
and so fondly dwelt on, an army of friends, that we 
could not wait until they came up, but hurried off in- - 
stantly to meet them at Roanoke, where it was said 
they were crossing. On reaching the river, we found 
that they had all got over, and had just formed their 
line of march. Oh ! how lovely is the sight of friends 
in the d^y of our danger ! V/e have had many mili- 
tary corps, but none had ever interested us like this. 
In shining regimentals and glittering arms, they 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 107 

moved before the eye of the glowing fancy like a host 
of heroes. 

Thrice happy for man, that a veil dark as the grave, 
is thrown over future events ! For how could we, who 
had seen one fine army butchered at Savannah, and 
another captured at Charleston, have borne up under 
the dreadful prospect of having this gallant armament 
also destroyed in a few days ! 

Soon as our first paroxysm of joy had a little sub- 
sided, we moved toward headquarters, where we had the 
good fortune to fall in with our old friend Colonel 
Semp, who appeared overjoyed to see us, and imme- 
diately offered to introduce us to the general. His ex- 
cellency Horatio Gates was the cc*mmander-in-chief, 
but as he had not yet arrived, the command rested on 
that brave old German general, the Baron de Kalb. 

It was to this officer that Colonel Semp introduced 
us, and, as was usual with him, in very flattering terms ; 
styling us " continental colonels, and two of the 
wealthiest and most distinguished patriots of South 
Carolina !" 

I shall never forget what I felt when introduced 
to this gentleman. He appeared to be rather elderly. 
But though the snow of winter was on his locks, his 
cheeks were still reddened over with the bloom of 
spring. His person was large and manly, above the 
common size, with great nerve and activity ; while 
his fine blue eyes expressed the mild radiance of intel- 
ligence and goodness. / 

He received us very politely, sjaying he was glad .0 



lo8 THE LIFE OF 

see us, "especially as we were the first Carolinians 
that he had seen ; which had not a little surprised him." 

Observing, I suppose, that we labored under rather 
too much of our national weakness, I mean modesty, 
he kindly redoubled his attention to us, and soon 
succeeded in curing us of our reserve. 

" I thought, " said he, " that British tyranny would 
have sent great numbers of the South Carolinians to 
join our arms. But, so far from it, they are all, as we 
have been told, running to take British protection. 
Surely they are not tired already of fighting for liberty." 

We told him the reason was very plain to us, who 
were inhabitants of that country, and knew very well 
the state of things there. 

" Aye," replied he, " well, what can the reason be } " 

" Why, sir," answered Marion, " the people of Caro- 
lina form but two classes, the rich and the poor. The 
poor are generally very poor, because, not being 
necessary to the rich, who have slaves to do all their 
work, they get no employment from them. Being 
thus unsupported by the rich, they continue poor and 
low spirited. They seldom get money ; and indeed, 
what little they do get, is laid out in brandy to raise 
their spirits, and not on books and newspapers to get 
information. Hence they know nothing of the com- 
parative blessings of their own country, nor of the 
great dangers which threaten it, and therefore care 
nothing about it. As to the other class, the rich, 
■jhey are generally very rich, and consequently afraid 
to stir, unless a fair chance offer, lest the British 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 109 

should burn their houses and furniture, and carry off 
their negroes and stock. "But permit me to assure 
you, sir, that though thus kept under by fear, they 
still mortally hate the British, and will, I am confi- 
dent, the moment they see an army of friends at their 
door, fly to their standard, like a generous pack to 
the sound of the horn that calls them to the chase of a 
hated wolf." 

The Baron de Kalb smiled, and said he hoped it 
would be found so. 

" No doubt of it at all sir," replied Marion. 

The baron then invited us to dine with him, but 
added, smiling, that he hoped we had good military 
stomachs that could relish and digest plain fare, which 
was all he could promise us, and perhaps hardly- 
enough of that. 

On sitting down to table, we found that his predic- 
tion about the bill of fare, was most unwelcomely true. 
Our dinner was just half a side of a miserably poor hog, 
as miserably cooked ; and in such small quantity, that 
before we were done there was nothing of it left but a 
rasher, for good manners* sake. And as to bread, there 
was not even a hoe-cake ! It is true, that, by way of 
substitute, we had a trencher or two of sweet potatoes 
paraded. Our drink was admirably suited to the dinner ; 
apple brandy with river water. 

God forbid that I should be unmindful of his favors ! 
For well do I know that the least of them is much better 
than the best of us deserve. On the contrary, I men- 
tion it rather as a compliment to his heavenly bounty, 
which is wont to spread our tables with so many dainties, 



no THE LIFE OF 

as to cause even roast pigs and sweet potatoes to pass 
for a sorry meal. 

Soon as dinner was over, all of us who could parade 
a cigar or a pipe, began to comfort our olfactories with a 
puff, not forgetting our brandy the while, so that by the 
time we had got well intrenched in clouds of fragrant 
kite-foot, we were in admirable cue for a dish of chat. 
De Kalb led the way ; and, as nearly as I can recollect, 
in the following words. 

" Colonel Marion," said he, pressing the tobacco in 
his pipe at the same time, " can you answer me one 
question ? " 

" Most gladly, general, and a thousand if I can ! " 

"Thank you, colonel but one will do." 

" Be pleased then, sir, to say on." 

" Well, colonel, can you tell me how old I am ? " 

" That's a tough question, general." 

"Tough, colonel ! pray how do you make that out ?" 

" Why, sir, there is a strange January and May sort 
of contrast between your locks and your looks that quite 
confuses me. By your locks you seem to be in the 
winter, by looks in the summer of your days." 

" Well but, colonel, striking the balance between the 
two, whereabouts do you take me to be } " 

" Why, sir, in the spring and prime of life ; about 
forty." 

" Good heavens, forty ! " 

" Yes sir, that's the mark ; there or thereabouts." 

" What ! no more } " 

" No, sir, not a day more ; not an hour." 

" Upon honor } " 



GEN FRANCIS MARION. II I 

" Yes, sir, upon honor ; upon a soldier's honor." 

" Ha ! — ha! — ha! — Well, colonel, I would not for a 
thousand guineas that your riflemen shot as wide off the 
mark as you guess. The British would not dread them 
as they do. Forty years old, indeed ! why what will you 
say colonel, when I tell you that I have been two and 
forty years a soldier." 

Here we all exclaimed, " Impossible, general I im- 
possible." 

" I ask your pardon, gentlemen," replied he, " it is 
not at all impossible, but very certain. Very certain 
that I have been two and forty years a soldier in the 
service of the king of France I " 

" O wonderful ! two and forty years ! Well then, at 
that rate, and pray how old, general, may you take your- 
self to be.?" 

" Why, gentlemen," replied he, " man and boy, I am 
now about sixty-three." 

" Good heaven ! sixty-three ! and yet such bloom, 
such flesh and blood ! " 

" If you arc so surprised, gentlemen, at my looks at 
sixty-three, what would you have thought had you seen 
my father at eighty-seven." 

*'Your father, general ! he cannot be alive yet, 
sure." 

" Alive ! yes, thank God, and alive like to be, I hope, 
for many a good year to come yet. Now, gentlemen, let 
me tell you a little story of my father. The very Christ- 
mas before I sailed for America, I went to see him. It 
was three hundred miles, at least from Paris. On arriv- 
ing at the house I found my dear old mother at her 



112 THE LIFE OF 

wheel, in her eighty-third year, mmd gentleman ! spin 
ning very gayly, while one of her great granddaughters 
carded the wool and sung a hymn for her. Soon as the 
first transport of meeting was over, I eagerly asked for 
my father. * Do not be uneasy, my son, your father is 
only gone to the woods with his three little great grand- 
children, to cut some fuel for the fire, and they will all 
be here presently, I'll be bound ! ' And so it proved j 
for in a very short time I heard them coming along. 
My father was the foremost, with his axe under his arm, 
and a stout billet on his shoulder ; and the children, each 
with his little load, staggering along, and prattling to my 
father with all their might. Be assured, gentlemen, that 
this was a most delicious moment to me. Thus after a 
long absence, to meet a beloved father, not only alive, 
but in health and dear domestic happiness above the lot of 
kings : also to see the two extremes of human life, youth 
and age, thus sweetly meeting and mingling in that 
cordial love, which thus turns the cottage into a para- 
dise." 

In telling this little story of his aged father and his 
young relatives, the general's fine countenance caught 
an animation which perfectly charmed us all. 

The eyes of Marion sparkled with pleasure. " Gen- 
eral," said he, "the picture which you have given us of 
your father, and his little great grandchildren, though 
short, is extremely interesting and delightful. It confirms 
me in an opinion which I have long entertained, which 
is, that there is more happiness in low life than in high 
life ; in a cottage than in a castle. Pray give us, general, 
your opinion of that matter." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



"3 



" Why," replied De Kalb, " this opinion of yours, 
colonel, is not a novel one by any means. It was the 
opinion of Rousseau, Fenelon, and of many other great 
men, and elegant writers. But notwithstanding such 
high authority, I must still beg leave to be a dissenter. 
I have seen so many people happy and also unhappy, 
both in cottages and castles, that I cannot but conclude, 
that happiness does not belong, peculiarly, to either 
condition, but depends on something very different from, 
and infinitely superior to both." 

We eagerly asked what he alluded to. 

" Why, gentlemen," replied he, " since you have 
been so polite as to ask my opinion, I will as frankly 
give it, though I am afraid it will seem very odd, es- 
pecially coming from a soldier. However, be that as it 
may, my opinion you have asked, and my opinion you 
shall have ; which is, that religion is the only thing to 
make a man happy in cottages or courts." 

The young officers began to stare. 

Gathering from their looks, that some of the com- 
pany did not relish this kind of philosophy, he quickly 
thus resumed his speech. 

" Pardon, gentlemen, I beg pardon ! I must not be 
misunderstood. By religion, I don't mean priestcraft 
I don't mean that superstitious grimace ; that rolling up 
of white eyes, and spreading of sanctified palms ; with 
'disfigured faces and long prayers,' and all the rest of 
that holy trumpery, which, so far from making people 
cheerful, tends but to throw them into the dumps. But 
I mean, by religion, that divine effort of the soul, which 
rises and embraces the great Author of its being with 



114 '^^^ ^^^^ ^^ 

filial ardor, and walks and converses with him, as a 
dutiful child with his revered father. Now gentlemen, 
I would ask, all prejudice apart, what is there can so 
exalt the mind and gladden the heart, as this high friend- 
ship with heaven, and those immortal hopes that spring 
from religion ?" 

Here one of the company, half blushing, as palpably 
co'wicted by the truth of the general's argument, smartly 
called out — " Well but, general, don't you think we can 
do pretty well here in camp, without religion ?" 

" What ! " replied De Kalb, '* would you give it all 
up to the priests ? " 

" Yes, to be sure I would," said the young officer, 
" for I am for every man's following his own trade, 
general. They are priests, and we are soldiers. So 
let them do all the praying, and we will do all the fight- 
ing." 

" Why, as to the fighting part," rejoined De Kalb, 
"I have no objection to doing all that for the priests, 
especially as their profession does not allow them to 
fight for themselves. But as to giving them up all the 
devotion, I confess I am not so liberal. No ! no ! gen- 
tlemen, charity begins at home ; and I am not for part- 
ing with pleasure so easily." 

" Pleasure ! " replied the young officer with a sneer. 

" Yes, sir, pleasure," returned De Kalb. "Accord 
ing to my creed, sir, piety and pleasure are synonymous 
terms ; and I should just as soon think of living physi- 
cally, without bread, as of living pleasantly, without 
religion. For what is religion, as I said before, but 
habitual friendship with God ? And what can the heart 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



"5 



conceive so delightful ? Or what can so gratify it in all 
its best and strongest desires. For example, gentle- 
men, we are all fond of honor. I, for my part, am fond 
of the friendship of the king of France. You glory in 
the friendship of the great Washington. Then what 
must be the glory of him who is in friendship with God } 
Again, gentlemen, we are all born to love, to admire, to 
adore. If a man have no love, he is gloomy. If he love 
a worthless object, he is mortified. But if he love a 
truly worthy object, his face shines, his eyes sparkle, 
his voice becomes sweet, and his whole air expressive 
of cheerfulness. And as this happy feeling must, in the 
nature of things, keep pace with the excellence of the 
object that is beloved, then what must be the cheerful- 
ness of him who loves the greatest, best, and loveliest 
of all beings, whose eternal perfections and goodness 
can for ever make him happier than heart can ask or 
think } 

" In a word, gentlemen, though I am a soldier, and 
soldiers you know are seldom enthusiasts in this way, 
yet I verily believe, as I said before, that a man of en- 
lightened and fervent piety must be infinitely happier 
in a cottage, than an irreligious emperor in his palace." 

In the height of this extraordinary conversation, an 
ofiScer stepped in and announced the arrival of General 
Gates. 

And here, as I have in this chapter given the reader 
what the jockies call a pretty long heat, I beg leave to 
order a halt and allow him a little time to breathe. 



ii6 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XII. 

Gen. Gates — bon mot of British General Lee — how an army ought not to 
march — De Kalb prophecies — chickens counted before they are 
hatched, alias, Marion and the author sent by Gen. Gates to prevent 
the escape of Cornwallis, before he had run — the British and Ameri- 
can armies meet— Gates and his militia-men leave De Kalb in the 
lurch— his gallant behavior, and glorious death. 

When a poor fellow is going down hill, it is but 
too common, they say, for everybody to give him a kick. 

*' Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 
" For heaven hath made them so. 

But, if I know myself aright, I can truly say, that 
nothing of this vile spirit suggests a syllable of what 
I now write of the unfortunate General Gates. On the 
contrary, I feel an ardent wish to speak handsomely of 
him ; and in one view of him I can so speak. As a 
gentleman, few camps or courts ever produced his 
superior. But though a perfect Chesterfield at court, in 
camp be was certainly but a Paris. 'Ti-s true, at Sara- 
toga he got his temples stuck round with laurels as 
thick as a May-day queen with gaudy flowers. And 
though the greater part of this was certainly the gallant 
workmanship of Arnold and Morgan, yet did it so hoist 
General Gates in the opinion of the nation, that many 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. i j y 

of his dear friends, with a prudent regard, no doubt, to 
their own dearer selves, had the courage to bring him 
forward on the military turf and run him for the gener- 
alissimoship against the great Washington. But though 
they were not able to prosper him in this mad attempt, 
yet they so far succeeded as to get him the command 
of the army of Carolina, where his short and calamitous 
career soon caused every good patriot to thank God for 
continuing to his servant Washington, the command of 
the American armies. 

On his way from the northern states, General Gates 
passed through Fredericksburg, where he fell in with 
General Charles Lee, who, in his frank manner, asked 
him where he was going. 

" Why, to take Cornwallis." 

" I am afraid," quoth Lee, " you will find him a 
tough piece of English beef." 

"Tough, sir," replied Gates; "tough! then begad 
I'll tender him. I'll make piloo of him, sir, in three 
hours after I set eyes upon him." 

" Aye ! will you indeed } " returned Lee. "• Well 
then send for me, and I will go and help you to eat 
him." 

Gates smiled ; and bidding him adieu, rode off. Lee 
bawled after him, " Take care, Gates ! take care ! or 
your northern laurels will degenerate into southern 
willows." 

The truth is, though General Lee was extremely 
splenetic, other than which, such a miserable old bach- 
elor and infidel could hardly be, yet he certainly had a 
knack of telling people's fortunes. By virtue of this 



Ii8 THE LIFE OF 

faculty he presently discovered that General Gates was 
no Fabins ; but on the contrary, too much inclined to 
the fatal rashness of his unfortunate colleague. 

And so it turned out. For, from the moment he 
joined the army, he appeared to act like one who thought 
of nothing but to have it proclaimed of him in all the 
newspapers on the continent, that in so many days, 
hours, minutes, and seconds, he flew from Philadelphia 
to South Carolina, saw, fought and conquered Corn- 
wallis ; and flew back again with the trophies of a second 
British army vanquished. Instead of moving on as old 
De Kalb had done, with a prudent regard to the health 
and refreshment of the troops, he, Jehu like, drove them 
on without regard to either. He would not take the 
lower road, as De Kalb earnestly advised, through a 
rich and plentiful country. Oh no ; that was too round 
about ; would too long have delayed his promised 
glory. 

Like an eagle shaking his bold pinions in the clouds 
of his pride, he must dash down at once upon his prey ; 
and so, for a near cut, take us through a pine barren, 
sufficient to have starved a forlorn hope of caterpillars. 
I shall make no attempt to describe the sufferings of 
the army. For, admitting that I should not lack words, 
my reader would, I am sure, lack faith. Indeed, at 
this season, when the old crop was gone and the ne\» 
not quite come in, what had we to expect, especially in 
such a miserable country, where many a family goes 
without dinner, unless the father can knock down a 
squirrel in the woods, or his pale sickly boy pick up a 
terrapin in the swamps } We did, indeed, sometimes 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



119 



fall in with a little corn ; but then, the poor, skinny, 
sunburnt women, with long uncombed tresses, and 
shrivelled breasts hanging down, would run screaming 
to us, with tears in their eyes, declaring that if we took 
away their corn, they and their children must perish. 
Such times I never saw, and I pray God, I may never 
see nor hear of again ; for, to this day, the bare thought 
of it depresses my spirits. But perhaps I ought to think 
of it, and often too, that I may be the more thankful to 
him who never, but in that one instance, permitted me 
to suffer, except in thinking of it. 

There was one case in particular which I shall never 
forget. Almost spent with fatigue and fasting, we 
halted one evening near the house of a man, whose 
plantation bespoke him a tolerably good liver. He met 
us with a countenance strongly marked with terror, and 
begged for God's sake we would not ruin him, for that 
he had a large family of children to maintain. We told 
him that we were soldiers fighting for the country, and 
that it would never do for us to starve. Understanding 
from this that we meant to forage upon him that night, 
he heaved a deep sigh, and turning about, went off with- 
out saying another word. I must confess I could not 
help feeling very sensibly for him, especially when we 
saw his little white-headed children, in melancholy 
groups, peeping at us around the corners of the house. 

His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty 
acres, was just in the prime, roasting ear state, and he 
had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach and 
apple trees, loaded with young fruit. Scarcely were our 
tents pitched, before the whole army, foot and horse, 



I20 THE LIFE OF 

turned in to destroy. The trees were all threshed in a 
trice ; after which the soldiers fell, like a herd of wild 
boars, upon the roasting ears, and the horses upon the 
blades and stalks, so that by morning light there was no 
sign or symptom left that corn had ever grown there 
since the creation of the world. What became of the 
poor man and his children God only knowS) for by sun- 
rise we were all under marching orders again, bending 
for the south. I said all, but I only meant all that were 
able. For numbers were knocked up every night by 
agues, fluxes, and other maladies, brought on by exces- 
sive fatigue and lack of food. 

I once before observed how highly the Baron de Kalb 
had been pleased to think of Marion and myself travel- 
ling so far to meet him. His liking for us grew so fast, 
that we had not been with him more than two days, be- 
fore he appointed us his supernumerary aids. We were, 
of course, much in his company, and intrusted, I believe, 
with every thought of his bosom that related to the good 
of the army. He made no scruple to tell us how utterly 
unmilitary those proceedings were ; and frequently fore- 
told the ruin that would ensue. 

" Here, " said he " we are hurrying to attack an 
enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would long for 
nothing so much as our arrival. We, two-thirds at least, 
raw militia ; they, all regulars. We, fatigued ; they, fresh. 
We, feeble and faint through long fasting ; they, from 
high keeping, as strong and fierce as game-cocks or 
butchers' bull dogs. It does not signify, gentlemen ; it 
is all over with us ; our army is lost as sure as it comes 
into contact with the British. I have hinted these 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



121 



things more than once to General Gates, but he is an 
officer who will take no counsel but his own." 

The truth is, General Gates was one of that crazy- 
brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be fortunate. 
The least dram of success would intoxicate and make him 
foolhardy. He could never bring himself, to believe, as 
he used to say, that " Lord Cornwallis would dare to look 
him in the face." 

So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the 
morning before the fatal action, he ordered Marion and 
myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy every 
scow, boat, or canoe, that could assist an Englishman in 
his flight to Charleston. 

Immediately on receiving orders, we waited on the 
good old De Kalb to take leave ; and also to assure him 
of our deep regret at parting with him. 

" It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he, " that 
I part with you, because I feel a presentiment that we 
part to meet no more." 

We told him we hoped better things. 

** Oh no ! " replied he, " it is impossible. War is a 
kind of game, and has its fixed rules, whereby, when we 
are well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly- 
tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, the die 
is to be cast, and in my judgment, without the least 
chance on our side. The militia will, I suppose, as usual 
play the back-game, that is, get out of the scrape as fast 
as their legs can carry them. But that, you know, won't 
do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run : and I 
believe I have with me some brave fellows that will stand 
by me to the last. So that, when you hear of our battle 



122 THE LIFE OF 

you will probably hear that your old friend De Kalb is 
at rest." 

I do not know that I was ever more affected in my 
life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were 
watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by the hand, 
with a firm tone, and animated look, said, " No ! no 
gentlemen ; no emotions for me but those of congratu- 
lation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible decree 
of him who made us. Then what joy to be able to meet 
his decree without dismay ! This, thank God, is my 
case. The happiness of man is my wish, that happiness 
I deem inconsistent with slavery. And to avert so great 
an evil from an innocent people, I will gladly meet the 
British to-morrow, at any odds whatever." 

As he spoke this, I saw a something in his eyes 
which at once demonstrated the divinity of virtue and 
the immortality of the soul. 

With sorrowful hearts we then left him, and with 
feelings which I shall never forget, while memory main- 
tains her place in this my aged brain. 

" Oh my God ! " said Marion, as we rode off, " what 
a difference does education make between man and man ! 
Enlightened by her sacred ray, see here is the native of 
a distant country, come to fight for our liberty and happi- 
ness, while many of our own people, for lack of educa- 
tion, are actually aiding the British to heap chains and 
curses upon themselves and children." 

It was on the morning of August the 15 th, 1780 
that we left the army in a good position near Rugeley's 
mills, twelve miles from Camden, where the enemy lay. 
About ten o'clock that night orders were given to march 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



123 



to surprise the enemy, who had at the same time com- 
menced their march, to surprise the Americans. To 
their mutual astonishment, the advance of the two armies 
met about two o'clock, and began to fire on each other. 
The firing, however, was soon discontinued by both par- 
ties, who appeared very willing to leave the matter to be 
decided by daylight. 

A council of war was called : in which De Kalb ad- 
vised that the army should fall back to Rugeley's mills, 
and there, in a good position, wait to be attacked. 

But Gates not only rejected this excellent counsel, 
but threw out suspicions that it originated from fear. 
Upon this, the brave old De Kalb called to his servant 
to take his horse, and leaping on the ground, placed him- 
self at the head of his command, on foot. To this in- 
decent expression of General Gates, he also retorted 
with considerable warmth, " Well, sir, a few hours per- 
haps will let us see who are the brave." 

It should be recorded for the benefit of our officers, 
many of whose laurels have been blasted by the fumes 
of brandy, that General Gates was rather too fond of 
his nocturnal glass. 

" I wonder where we shall dine to-morrow } " said 
one of his officers, as, in the dark, they sat on their 
sleepy horses waiting for the day. 

" Dine, sir ! " replied the confident Gates, *• why at 
Camden, sir, to be sure. Begad ! I would not give a pinch 
of snuff, sir, to be insured a beefsteak to-morrow in Cam- 
den, and Lord Cornwallis at my table." 

Presently day appeared ; and, as the dawning light 
increased, the frightened militia began to discover the 



124 ^-^^ ^^^^ O^ 

woods reddening over like crimson with the long ex- 
tended lines of the British army, which soon, with rat- 
tling drums and thundering cannon, came rushing on to 
the charge. The militia, scarcely waiting to give them 
a distant fire, broke and fled in the utmost precipitation. 
Whereupon Gates clapped spurs to his horse, and 
pushed hard after them, as he said, " to bring the rascals 
back." But he took care never to bring himself back, 
nor indeed to stop until he had fairly reached Charlotte, 
eighty miles from the field of battle. I remember it was 
common to talk in those days, that he killed three 
horses in his flight. 

Gates and the militia, composing two-thirds of the 
army, having thus shamefully taken themselves off, the 
brave old De Kalb, and his handful of continentals were 
left alone to try the fortune of the day. And never did 
men display a more determined valor ! For though out- 
numbered more than two to one, they sustained the 
shock of the enemy's whole force, for upwards of an 
hour. With equal fury the ranks-sweeping cannon 
and muskets were employed by both sides, until the 
contending legions were nearly mixed. Then quitting 
this slower mode of slaughter, with rage-blackened faces 
and fiery eyeballs, they plunge forward on each other, 
to the swifter vengeance of the bayonet. Far and wide 
the woods resound with the clang of steel, while the red 
reeking weapons, like stings of infernal serpents, are 
seen piercing the bodies of the combatants. Some, on 
receiving the fatal stab, let drop their useless arms, and 
with dying fingers clasped the hostile steel that was cold 
in their bowels. Others, faintly crying out, " O God I 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



"5 



am slain " sank pale, quivering to the ground, while the 
vital current gushed in hissing streams from their 
bursted bosoms. Officers, as well as men, now mingle 
in the uproaring strife, and snatching the weapons of 
the slain, swell the horrid carnage. Glorying in his 
continentals, the brave De Kalb towers before them, 
like a pillar of fire. His burning face is like a red star, 
guiding their destructive course ; his voice, as the horn 
that kindles the young pack in the chase of blood. A 
British grenadier, of giant size, rushes on him with a 
fixed bayonet. De Kalb parries the furious blow, and 
plunges his sword in the Briton's breast ; then, seizing 
his falling arms he deals death around him on the crowd- 
ing foe. Loud rise the shouts of the Americans ; but 
louder still the shouts of the more numerous enemy. 
The battle burns anew along all the fierce conflicting 
line. There, the distant Cornwallis pushes on his fresh 
regiments, like red clouds, bursting in thunder on the 
Americans ; and here, condensing his diminished 
legions, the brave De Kalb still maintains the unequal 
contest. But, alas ! what can valor do against equal 
valor, aided by such fearful odds } The sons of freedom 
bleed on every side. With grief their gallant leader 
marks the fall of his heroes ; soon himself to fall. For, 
as with a face all inflamed in the fight, he bends for- 
ward animating his men, he receives eleven wounds ! 
Fainting with loss of blood, he falls to the ground. 
Several brave men, Britons and Americans, were killed 
over him, as they furiously strove to destroy or to de- 
fend. In the midst of the clashing bayonets, his only 
surviving aid, monsieur du Buyson, ran to him, and 



126 THE LIFE OF 

stretching his arms over the fallen hero, called out, 
" Save the Baron de Kalb ! " The British officers in- 
terposed, and prevented his immediate destruction. 

It has been said that Lord Cornwallis was so struck 
with the bravery of De Kalb, that he generously super- 
intended while his wounds were dressed, by his own 
surgeons. It has also been said, that he appointed him 
to be buried with the honors of war. British officers 
have been often known to do such noble deeds, but that 
Lord Cornwallis was capable of acting so honorably, is 
doubtful. 

De Kalb died as he had lived, the unconquered 
friend of liberty. For, being kindly condoled with by a 
British officer for his misfortune, he replied, " I thank 
you, sir, for your generous sympathy ; but I die the 
death I always prayed for ; the death of a soldier fight- 
ing for the rights of man." 

His last moments were spent in dictating a letter to 
a friend concerning his continentals, of whom he said^ 
he "had no words that could sufficiently express his 
love, and his admiration of their valor." He survived 
the action but a few hours, and was buried in the plains 
of Camden, near which his last battle was fought. 

When the great Washington, many years afterwards 
came on a visit to Camden he eagerly inquired for the 
grave of De Kalb. It was shown to him. After look- 
ing on it awhile, with a countenance marked with 
thought, he breathed a deep sigh, and exclaimed, " So, 
there lies the brave De Kalb; the generous stranger, 
who came from a distant land, to fight our battles, 
and to water, with his blood, the tree of our liberty. 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 



127 



Would to God he had Hved to share with us its 
fruits ! ' 

Congress ordered him a monument. But the friend 
of St. Tammany still sleeps " without his fame." I 
have seen the place of his rest. It was the lowest spot 
of the plain. No sculptured warrior mourned at his 
low-laid head ; no cypress decked his heel. But the tall 
corn stood in darkening ranks around him, and seemed 
to shake their green leaves with joy over his narrow 
dwelling 

But the roar of his battle is not yet quite passed 
away, nor his ghastly wounds forgotten. The citizens 
of Camden have lately enclosed his grave, and placed 
on it a handsome marble, with an epitaph gratefully de- 
scriptive of his virtues and services, that the people of 
future days may, like Washington, heave the sigh when 
they read of " the generous stranger who came from a 
distant land to fight their battles, and to water, with his 
blood, the tree of their liberties." 

Fair Camden's plains his glorious dust inhume, 
Where annual Ceres shades her hero's tomb. 



Maud, catching our conversation, and flashing back her inno- 
cent, merry face upon us. 

*' No, scarcely likely. Oil yes ; it might have been : I for- 

ary corps, but none had ever interested us like this. 

In shining regimentals and glittering arms, they moved 

before the eye of glowing fancy like a host of heroes. 



ia8 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Marion and the author very busy in destroying the rice-makers' boats on 
Santee — first got the news of the defeat of our army, and death of the 
brave De Kalb — Marion addresses his followers — ^their gallant reply. 

Marion and myself, as yet ignorant of the fate of 
the army, were on the waters of the Santee, very 
busily executing our boat-burning orders. Not content 
with destroying the common scows and flats of the 
ferries, we went on to sweep the river of every skiff and 
canoe that we could lay hands on ; nay, had the harm- 
less wonkopkins been able to ferry an Englishman 
over the river, we should certainly have declared war 
and hurled our firebrands among them. 

The reader may be sure we gained no good will by 
our zeal in this affair ; for it was a serious thing to the 
planters : and their wrath waxed exceedingly hot against 
us. Among the fleet of boats and flats that perished 
by our firebrands or hatchets, there were two that be- 
longed to my excellent old uncle. Colonel E. Horry. 
The old gentleman could hardly believe his negroes, 
when they told him that we were destroying his boats. 
However, to be satisfied of the matter, he mounted his 
horse, and galloped down to the river to see. We had 
completely done for his scow, and were just giving the 
finishing blows to his boat as he hove in sight ; where- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 135 

upon, clapping whip and spur to his horse, he came on 
as hard as he could drive. Soon as he was within hail- 
ing distance of an ordinary speaking trumpet, he began 
to bawl, " Hold ! hold ! for God's sake, hold ! " 

Then dashing up, with cheeks rfed as fire coals, and 
his mouth all in a lather, he roared out, ** Why, what ? 
what ? what are you about here ? " 

*' We are only trying to kidnap the British, uncle," 
said I. 

" Kidnap the d — ," he replied. 

Then looking around, and seeing how completely we 
had shivered his fine new boat and scow, he ripped out 
again, " Well ! here is a pretty spot of work ! a pretty 
spot of work ! A branding new scow and boat, that cost 
me, only last spring, three hundred dollars ! every 
farthing of it ! and here now all cut to smash ! ruined, 
not worth a chew of tobacco ! why ! did mortal flesh ever 
see the like of this t Breaking up our boats ! why, how 
are we to harvest our rice ? " 

. " Uncle," said I, " you had better think less of 
harvesting your rice, and more of catching the musk- 
rats," meaning the British. 

Here, darting at me an eye of inexpressible astonish- 
ment and rage, he exclaimed, "Why, certainly the d — 1 
is in the young man ! catch the British t Why, have you 
not heard that the British are carrying everything be- 
fore them ; have broke up our army ; cut the reg- 
ulars to pieces ; scattered the militia ; and chased 
General Gates to Jericho, and to the d — 1 for what I 
care ? " 

" God forbid ! " said Marion. 

9 



I30 



THE LIFE OF 



"Nay, that is past praying for/' replied my uncle, 
" and if you had any interest in heaven, you ought to 
have made it sooner. It is too late now." 

" Great God ! " returned Marion ; " and so our army 
is lost!" 

" Yes," continued my uncle ; '' lost, as sure as a 
gun : and that is not all ; for De Kalb is killed ; Sump- 
ter surprised and cut to pieces ; and Charleston illumin- 
ated every night for joy." 

We could neither of us utter a word. 

Presently my uncle, casting a searching eye around 
on our men, about thirty in number, asked where our 
troops were. 

I told him those were all the troops we had. 

I thought the good old gentleman would have gone 
into fits. He rolled up his eyes to heaven ; smacked 
his hands together, and bringing them by a sudden jerk 
to his breast, with a shrill whistle exclaimed, " Mad ! 
mad ! the young fellow is as mad as a March hare. 
Well, I'll tell you what, nephew of mine, you may go 
about on the river, chopping the planters' boats at this 
rate, but I would not be in your coat, my lad, for your 
jacket, though it was stiff with gold." 

I asked him what he meant by that i* 

" Why, I meant," replied he, " that if you are hot, 
all of you, knocked on the head in three hours, it will be 
a wonder." 

" Aye ! what makes you think so, uncle," said I. 

He answered : *' You know my old waiting man, Tom, 
don't you } " 

*' To be sure I do," said I ; " I have known Tom 



GMN, FRANCIS MARION. 131 

ever since I was a boy, and should be confounded sorry 
to hear Tom prophesy any harm of me ; for I have 
always taken him to be a very true man of his word." 

"Yes, I'll warrant him," said my uncle ; "for though 
Tom is a negro, and as black as old Nick, yet I would as 
soon take Tom's word as that of any white man in 

Carolina. Well, Tom, you know has a wife at Mr. 's, 

as rank a tory as we have hereabouts. On coming home 
this morning, he shook his head and said he was mighty 
'fraid you and Colonel Marion were in a bad box ; for, that 
he got it from one of the black waiters in the house, who 
overheard the talk, that there are three companies of 
tories now moulding their bullets, and making ready to 
cut you off." 

I looked at Marion and saw battle in his face. 

My uncle was about to invite us to the house ; but 
Marion interrupted him by saying, " This is no time to 
think of visiting;" and turning to his trumpeter, or- 
dered him to wind his horn, which was instantly done. 
Then placing himself at our head, he dashed off at a 
charging lope ; with equal speed we followed and soon 
lost sight of my Uncle Horry. 

On reaching the woods, Marion ordered the troop 
to halt and form ; when, with his usual modesty, he thus 
addressed us : 

" Well, gentlemen, you see our situation ! widely 
different from what it once was. Yes, once we were a 
happy people ! Liberty shone upon our land, bright as 
the sun that gilds yon fields ; while we and our fathers 
rejoiced in its lovely beams, gay a'^ the birds that enliven 
our forests. But, alas ! those goldv d.^vs are gone, and 



132 



THE LIFE OF 



the cloud of war now hangs dark and lowering over our 
heads. Our once peaceful land is now filled with up- 
roar and death. Foreign ruffians, braving us up to our 
very firesides and altars, leave us no alternative but 
slavery or death. Two gallant armies have been marched 
to our assistance ; but, for lack of competent com- 
manders, both have been lost. That under General 
Lincoln, after having been duped and butchered at Sa- 
vannah, was at last completely trapped at Charleston. 
And that under General Gates, after having been im- 
prudently overmarched, is now cut up at Camden. Thus 
are all our hopes from the north entirely at an end ; and 
poor Carolina is left to shift for herself. A sad shift in- 
deed, when not one in a thousand of her own children 
will rise to take her part ; but, on the contrary, are madly 
taking part with the enemy against her. And now, my 
countrymen, I want to know your minds. As to my 
own, that has long been made up. I consider my life as 
but a moment. But I also consider, that to fill that mo- 
ment with duty, is my all. To guard my innocent coun- 
try against the evils of slavery, seems now my greatest 
duty ; and, therefore, I am determined, that while I live, 
she shall never be enslaved. She may come to that 
wretched state for what I know, but my eyes shall never 
behold it. Never shall she clank her chains in my ears, 
and pointing to the ignominious badge, exclaim, ' it was 
your cowardice that brought me to this.'" 

In answer to this, we unanimously assured him, that 
those sentiments and resolutions were exactly our own : 
and that we were steadfastly determined to die with him, 
or conquer for our country. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 133 

" Well, then, my brave friends," said he, " draw your 
swords ! Now for a circle, emblematical of our eternal 
union ! and pointing your blades to heaven, the bright 
throne of Him who made us free, swear you will never 
be slaves of Britain." 

Which was all most devoutly done. 

Soon as this patriotic rite was performed, we all dis- 
mounted, and taking our seats on the trunks of two 
fallen pines that lay conveniently parallel, we made our 
simple dinner of cold roots ; and for our beverage drank 
of the lucid stream that softly murmured by. 

The reader will please to keep in mind, that our 
troops consisted of but thirty mounted militia; chiefly 
gentlemen volunteers, armed with muskets and swords, 
but almost without powder and ball. How Marion came 
to be at the head of this little party, it may be amusing 
to the reader to hear. 

Some short time before this date, 1779 — 80, when 
the war began to rage in South Carolina, a British cap- 
tain by the name of Ardeisoff came up to Georgetown 
in an armed vessel, and filled the country with printed 
proclamations from Lord Cornwallis, calling on the good 
people of South Carolina to submit and take royal pro- 
tections ! Numbers of the ignorant and pusillanimous 
sort closed with the offer. But the nobler ones of the 
district, (Williamsburgh,) having no notion of selling 
their liberties for a pig in a poke, called a caucus of their 
own, from whom they selected Captain John James, and 
sent him down to master Captain Ardeisoff, to know 
what he would be at. This Captain James, by birth an 
Irishman had rendered himself so popular in the district, 



134 ^^-^ ^^^^ ^^ 

that he was made a militia captain under the royal gov- 
ernment. But in '75, soon as he found that the ministry 
were determined to tax the Americans, without allowing 
them the common British right of representation, he 
bravely threw up his commission, declaring that he would 
never serve a tyrant Such was the gentleman chosen 
by the aforesaid liberty caucus, to go on the embassy 
before mentioned. In the garb of a plain planter, 
James presented himself before the haughty Captain 
Ardeisoff, and politely asked " on what terms himself 
and friends must submit } " 

" What terms, sir ! " replied the angry Briton " what 
terms ! why, no other terms, you may be sure, than un- 
conditional submission." 

" Well but sir," answered James, very calmly, " are 
we not to be allowed to stay at home in peace and 
quiet.?" 

" In peace and quiet, indeed ! " replied Ardeisoff, 
with a sarcastic grin ; " a pretty story, truly ! Stay at 
home in peace and quiet, hey t No, no, sir, you have 
all rebelled against your king ; and if treated as you de- 
serve, would now be dancing like dogs at the arms 
of the gallows. But his majesty is merciful, sir ; and 
now that he has graciously pardoned you, he expects you 
will immediately take up arms and turn out in support 
of his cause." 

" You are very candid, sir," said James ; " and now 
I hope you will not be displeased with me for being 
equally plain. Permit me, then, sir, to tell you that 
such terms will never go down with the gentlemen 
whom I have the honoi^to represent." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



^35 



*' The gentlemen you have the honor to represent, 
you d — n — d rebel ! " 

Vesuvius ! ^tna ! and Strumbolo ! what are your 
fires and flames, compared with those that raged in the 
bosom of James, when he heard himself called a d — n — d 
rebel ? 

Instantly springing up, with eyes of lightning, he 
snatched up his chair, and, regardless of consequence, 
laid the audacious Ardeisoff sprawling on the floor ; 
then flying to his horse, he mounted, and made his es- 
cape. Learning from, him, at his return, what they had 
to understand by British protections, his gallant constit- 
uents came at once to the resolution to arm and fight 
till death, rather than hold life on such ignominius terms. 
Immediately the whole force of the district, about two 
hundred, able to bear arms, were mustered and placed 
under Captains William M'Cawley, Henry Mowizon, and 
our brave Captain James, who was appointed major and 
captain-general of the whole. Feeling that distrust in 
themselves which is common with raw troops, and learn- 
ing that the northern army was just entering South 
Carolina, they despatched a messenger to General Gates, 
to request that he would send them an officer who had 
seen service. Governor Rutledge, who happened at the 
time to be in camp, advised General Gates by all means 
to send Marion. Marion was accordingly sent ; but with 
orders, as we have seen, to destroy, on his route, all the 
boats on the Santee river, lest Lord Cornwallis should 
make his escape. At the time of leaving General Gates, 
Marion had but ten men with him ; but on reaching 
Santee, we were joined by Major John James, with about 



136 



THE LIFE OF 



twenty gallant gentleman volunteers, making his whole 
force about thirty. 

A slender force, to be sure, to oppose to the tremen- 
dous powers which Marion had to encounter ! But, " the 
Lord is king, the victory is his ! " and when he pleases 
to give it to an oppressed people, he can make the few 
and feeble overcome the many and mighty. 

As the brave Major James may perhaps be mentioned 
no more in this history, I must gratify the reader by 
informing him, that the noble major lost nothing by 
his attachment to duty and the rights of man. He 
lived to see Cornwallis, Tarleton, and Rawdon, laid as 
low as the insolent Ardeisoff ; and after many years 
of sweet repose, under the pleasant shade of peace and 
plenty, he sank gently to rest. But though now fallen 
asleep, he still lives in his country's gratitude, and in 
the virtues of his son, who fills one of the highest places 
in the judiciary of his native state. 



QEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



137 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Carolina apparently lost — Marlon almost alone keeps the field — begins to 
figure — surprises a strong British party at Nelson's old field — scourges 
the tories at Black Mingo — again smites them hip and thigh on Pedee. 

The history of the American Revolution is a his- 
tory of miracles, all bearing, like sunbeams, on this 
heavenly fiat : " America shall be free ! " 

Some of our chimney-corner philosophers can hardly 
believe, when they read of Samson making such a 
smash among the Philistines with the jawbone of an 
ass. Then how will they believe what I am going to 
tell them of Marion ? How will they believe that, at a 
time when the British had completely overrun South 
Carolina ; their headquarters at Charleston ; a victorious 
array at Camden ; strong garrisons at Georgetown and 
Jacksonborough, with swarms of thievish and bloody 
minded tories, filling up all between ; and the spirits of 
the poor whigs so completely cowed, that they were 
fairly knocked under to the civil and military yoke of 
the British, who, I ask again, will believe, that in this 
desperate state of things, one little, swarthy, French- 
phizzed Carolinian, with only thirty of his ragged 
countrymen, issuing out of the swamps, should have 
dared to turn his horse's head towards this all conquer- 
ing foe ? 



13^ 



THE LIFE OF 



Well, Marion was that man. He it was, who, with 
his feeble force, dared to dash up at once to Nelson's 
ferry, on the great warpath between the British armies 
at Charleston and Camden, 

" Now, my gallant friends," said he, at sight of the 
road, and with a face burning for battle, "now look 
sharp ! here are the British wagon tracks, with the sand 
still falling in ! and here are the steps of their troops 
passing and repassing. We shall not long be idle 
here ! " 

And so it turned out. For scarcely had we reached 
our hiding place in the swamp, before in came our 
scouts at half speed, stating that a British guard, with a 
world of American prisoners, were on their march for 
Charlestown. 

" How many prisoners do you suppose there were .? " 
said Marion. 

" Near two hundred," replied the scouts. 

'' And what do you imagine was the number of the 
British guard t " 

" Why, sir, we counted about ninety." 

"Ninety!" said Marion with a smile; "ninety! 
Well, that will do. And now, gentlemen, if you will 
only stand by me, I've a good hope that we thirty will 
have those ninety by to-morrow's sunrise." 

We told him to lead on, for that we were resolved 
to die by his side. 

Soon as the dusky night came on, we went down to 
the ferry, and passing for a party of good loyalists, we 
easily got set over. The enemy, with their prisoners, 
having just effected the passage of the river as the sun 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 13^ 

went down, halted at the first tavern, generally called 
" the Blue House," where the officers ordered supper. 
In front of the building, was a large arbor, wherein the 
topers were wont to sit, and spend the jocund night 
away in songs and gleeful draughts of apple brandy grog. 
In this arbor, flushed with their late success, sat the 
British guard ; and tickler after tickler swilling, roared 
it away to the tune of " Britannia strike home : " till over- 
come with fatigue, and the opiate juice, down they sank, 
deliciously beastified, to the ground. 

Just as the cock had winded his last horn for day we 
approached the house in perfect concealment, behind a 
string of fence, within a few yards of it. But in spite 
of all our address, we could not effect a complete sur- 
prisal of them. Their sentinels took the alarm, and fir- 
ing their pieces, fled into the yard. Swift as lightning 
we entered with them, and seizing their muskets, which 
were all stacked near the gate, we made prisoners of the 
whole party, without having been obliged to kill more 
than three of them. 

Had Washington and his whole army been upon 
the survivors, they could hardly have roared out louder 
for quarter. After securing their arms, Marion called 
for their captain ; but he was not to be found, high nor 
low, among the living or dead. However, after a hot 
search, he was found up the chimney ! He begged very 
hard that we would not let his men know where he had 
concealed himself. Nothing could equal the mortifica- 
tion of the British, when they came to see what a hand- 
ful of militia-men had taken them, and recovered all 
their prisoners. 



140 



THE LIFE OF 



Marion was at first in high hopes, that the American 
regulars whom he had so gallantly rescued, would, to a 
man, have joined his arms, and fought hard to avenge 
their late defeat. But equally to his surprise and their 
own disgrace, not one of them could be prevailed on to 
shoulder a musket ! '' Where is the use," said they, 
" of fighting now, when all is lost ? " 

This was the general impression. And indeed ex- 
cept these unconquerable spirits, Marion and Sumpter, 
with a few others of the same heroic stamp, who kept 
the field, Carolina was no better than a British province. 

In our late attack on the enemy, we had but four 
rounds of powder and ball ; and not a single sword that 
deserved the name. But Marion soon remedied that 
defect. He bought up all the old saw blades from the 
mills, and gave them to the smiths, who presently manu- 
factured for us a parcel of substantial broadswords, 
sufficient, as I have often seen, to kill a man at a single 
blow. 

From our prisoners in the late action, we got com- 
pletely armed ; a couple of English muskets, with bayo- 
nets and cartouch-boxes, to each of us, with which we 
retreated into Britton's Neck. 

We had not been there above twenty-four hours be- 
fore news was brought us by a trusty friend, that the 
tories, on Pedee, were mustering, in force, under a Cap- 
tain Barfield. This, as we learnt afterwards, was one of 
the companies that my uncle's old coachman had b^en 
so troubled about. We were quickly on horseback ; 
and after a brisk ride of forty miles, came upon their 
encampment, at three o'clock in the morning. Their 



GEN. FRANCIS MAR /ON. 141 

surprise was so complete, that they did not fire a single' 
shot ! Of forty-nine men, wno composed their com- 
pany, we killed and took about thirty. The arms, am- 
munition, and horses of the whole party, fell into our 
hands, with which we returned to Britton's Neck, with- 
out the loss of a man. 

The rumor of these two exploits soon reached the 
British and their friends the tories, who presently 
despatched three stout companies to attack us. Two 
of the parties were British ; one of them commanded 
by Major Weymies, of house-burning memory. The 
third party were altogether tories. We fled before 
them towards North Carolina. Supposing they had 
entirely scouted us, they gave over the chase, and re- 
treated for their respective stations ; the British to 
Georgetown, and the tories to Black Mingo. Learning 
this, from the swift, mounted scouts whom he always 
kept close hanging upon their march, Marion ordered 
us to face about, and dog them to their encampment, 
which we attacked with great fury. Our fire com- 
menced on them at but a short distance, and with great 
ejffect; but outnumbering us, at least two to one, they 
stood their ground and fought desperately. But losing 
their commander, and being hard pressed, they at length 
gave way, and fled in the utmost precipitation, leaving 
upv/ards of two-thirds of their number, killed and 
wounded, on the ground. The surprise and destruction 
of the tories would have been complete, had it not been 
for the alarm given by our horses' feet in passing Black 
Mingo bridge, near which they were encamped. Marion 
never afterwards suffered us to cross a bridge in the 



142 



THE LIFE OF 



night, until we had first spread our blankets on it, ij 
prevent noise. 

This third exploit of Marion rendered his name very 
dear to the poor whigs, but utterly abominable to the 
enemy, particularly the tories, who were so terrified at 
this last handling, that, on their retreat, they would not 
halt a moment at Georgetown, though twenty miles 
from the field of battle; but continued their flight, not 
thinking themselves safe, until they had got Santee river 
between him and them. 

These three spirited charges, having cost us a great 
deal of rapid marching and fatigue, Marion said he 
would give us '' a little rest." So he led us down into 
Waccamaw, where he knew we had some excellent 
friends ; among whom were the Hugers and Trapiers, 
and Alstons ; fine fellows ! rich as Jews, and hearty as 
we could wish : indeed the wealthy captain, now Colonel 
William Alston, was one of Marion's aids. 

These great people all received us as though we had 
been their brothers, threw open the gates of their elegant 
yards for our cavalry, hurried us up their princely steps ; 
and, notwithstanding our dirt and rags, ushered us into 
their grand saloons and dining-rooms, where the famous 
mahogany sideboards were quickly covered with pitchers 
of old amber colored brandy, and sugar dishes of double 
refined, with honey, for drams and juleps. Our horses 
were up to the eyes in corn and sweet-scented fodder ; 
while, as to ourselves, nothing that air, land, or water 
could furnish, was good enough for us. Fish, flesh, and 
fowl, all of the fattest and finest, and sweetly graced 
with the smiles of the great ladies, were spread before 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 143 

US, as though we had been kings : while Congress and 
Washington went round in sparkling bumpers, from old 
demijohns that had not left the garret for many a year. 

This was feasting indeed ! It was a feasting of the 
soul as well as of the sense. To have drawn the sword 
for liberty and dear country's sake, was, of itself, no 
mean reward to honest republicans ; but, beside that, to 
be §0 honored and caressed, by the great ones of the 
land, was like throwing the zone of Venus over the 
waist of Minerva, or like crowning profit with pleasure, 
and duty with delight. 

In consequence of the three fortunate blows which 
he had lately struck, Marion, as before observed, was 
getting the enviable honor to be looked up to as the 
rallying point of the poor whigs ; insomuch, that although 
afraid as mice to stir themselves, yet, if they found out 
that the tories and British were anywhere forming 
encampments about the country, they would mount their 
boys and push them off to Marion to let him know. 
-Here I must give the reader an instance on the spot. 

We had just got ourselves well braced up again, by 
rest and high feeding, among the noble whigs of Wacca- 
maw, when a likely young fellow at half speed drove up 
one morning to the house, and asked for. General Marion. 

Marion went to the door. 

" Well, my son, what do you want with me .-* " 

" Why, sir general," replied the youth, '' daddy sent 
me down to let you know, as how there is to be a mighty 
gathering of the tories, in our parts, to-morrow night." 

" Aye indeed ! and pray whereabouts, my son, may 
your parts be } " 



144 



THE LIFE OF 



" Heigh, sir general ! don't you know where our 
parts is? I thought everybody knowed where daddy 
lives." 

" No, my son, I don't ; but, I've a notion he lives 
somewhere on Pedee ; perhaps a good way up." 

" Yes, by jing, does he live a good way up ! a matter 
of seventy miles ; clean away up there, up on Little 
Pedee." 

*' Very well, my son, I thank your daddy, and you 
too, for letting me know it. And, I believe, I must try 
to meet the tories there." 

" O la, sir general, try to meet 'em indeed ! yes, to 
be sure I dear me, sirs, hearts alive, that you must, sir 
general ! for daddy says, as how he is quite sartin, if 
you'll be there to morrow night, you may make a prop- 
er smash among the tories ; for they'll be there thick 
and threefold. They have heard, so they say, of your 
doings, and are going to hold this great meeting, on 
purpose to come all the way down here after you." 

" After me ? '* 

" Yes, indeed are they, sir general ! and you had 
better keep a sharp look out, I tell you now; for they 
have just been down to the British, there at George- 
town, and brought up a matter of two wagon loads of 
guns ; great big English muskets ! I can turn my 
thumb in them easy enough ! And, besides them plaguy 
guns, they have got a tarnal nation sight of pistols, and 
bagonets, and swords, and saddles , and bridles, and 
the dear knows what else besides ! so they are in a 
mighty good fix, you may depend, sir general." 

" Well, perhaps you and I may have some of their 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



145 



fine things to-morrow night. What say you to it, my 
son ? " 

" By jing, I should like it proper well ! But, to be 
sure, now, sir general, you look like a mighty small man 
to fight them great big tories there, on Pedee. But 
daday says as how the heart is all : and he says, too, 
that though you are but a little man, you have a mon- 
strous great heart." 

Marion smiled, and went out among his men, to 
whom he related the boy's errand ; and desired them to 
question him, so that there might be no trick in the 
matter. But every scruple of that sort was quickly re- 
moved ; for several of our party were well acquainted 
with the lad's father, and knew him to be an excellent 
whig. 

Having put our fire-arms in prime order for an at- 
tack, we mounted ; and giving our friends three cheers, 
dashed off, just as the broad-faced moon arose ; and by 
daybreak next morning, had gained a very convenient 
swamp, within ten miles of the grand tory rendezvous. 
To avoid giving alarm, we struck into the swamp, and 
there, man and horse, lay snug all day. About eleven 
o'clock, Marion sent out a couple of nimble-footed young 
men, to conceal themselves near the main road, and 
take good heed to what was going on. In the evening 
they returned, and brought word that the road had been 
constantly alive with horsemen, tories they supposed, 
armed with new guns, and all moving on very gayly to- 
wards the place the lad had told us of. Soon as it was 
dark, we mounted, and took the track at a sweeping 
gallop, which, by early supper time, brought us in sight 

10 



I > 



THE LIFE OF 



of their fires. Then leaving our horses under a small 
guard, we advanced quite near them, in the dark with- 
out being discovered ; for so little thought had they of 
Marion, that they had not placed a single sentinel, but 
were, all hands, gathered about the fire : some cooking, 
some fiddling and dancing, and some playing cards, as 
we could hear them every now and then bawling out, 
" Huzza, at him again, damme ! aye, that's the dandy ! 
My trick, begad ! " 

Poor wretches, little did they think how near the 
fates were grinning around them. 

Observing that they had three large fires, Marion 
divided our little party of sixty men into three companies, 
each opposite to a fire, then bidding us to take aim, with 
his pistol he gave the signal for a general discharge. In* 
a moment the woods were all in a blaze, as by a flash of 
lightning, accompanied by a tremendous clap of thunder. 
Down tumbled the dead ; off bolted the living ; loud 
screamed the wounded ; while far and wide, all over the 
woods, nothing was to be heard but the running of tories, 
and the snorting of wild bounding horses, snapping the 
saplings. Such a tragi-comedy was hardly ever seen^ 
On running up to their fires, we found we had killed 
twenty-three, and badly wounded as many more ; thir- 
teen we made prisoners ; poor fellows who had not been 
grazed by a bullet, but were so frightened that they could 
not budge a peg. We got eighty -four stand of arms, 
chiefly English muskets and bayonets, one hundred 
horses, with new saddles and bridles, all English too, 
with a good deal of ammunition and baggage. The 
consternation of the tories was so great that they never 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



147 



dieamt of carrying off anything. Even their fiddles and 
fiddle-bows, and playing cards, were all left strewed 
around their fires. One of the gamblers, (it is a serious 
truth) though shot dead, still held the cards hard griped 
in his hands. Led by curiosity to inspect this strange 
sight, a dead gambler, we found that the cards which he 
held were ace, deuce, and jack. Clubs were trumps. 
Holding high, low, jack, and the game, in his own hand 
he seemed to be in a fair way to do well ; but Marion 
came down upon him with a trump that spoiled his sport, 
and nonsuited him forever. 

But the most comfortable sight of all, was the fine 
supper which the tories had cooked ! three fat roasted 
pigs and six turkeys, with piles of nice journey cakes. 
'Tis true, the dead bodies lay very thick round the fires : 
but having rode seventy miles, and eating nothing since 
the night before, we were too keen set to think of stand- 
ing on trifles ; so fell upon the poor tories' provisions, 
and made the heartiest supper in the world. And, to 
crown all, we found among the spoil, upwards of half a 
barrel of fine old peach brandy. 

" Ah, this brandy ! " said Marion, " was the worst 
foe these poor rogues ever had. But I'll take care it 
shall be no foe to us." So, after ordering half a pint to 
each man, he had the balance put under guard. And I 
must observe, by way of justice to my honored friend, 
that success never seemed to elate him ; nor did ever he 
lose sight of safety in the blaze of victory. For in- 
stantly after the defeat, our guns were all loaded and our 
sentinels set, as if an. enemy had been in force in the 
neighborhood. 



148 TB^ LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XV. 

The whigs in high spirits on account of our success — an express from 
Governor Rutledge — promotions — British and tories in great wrath- 
sketch of their treatment of the patriots. 

The news of this fourth overthrow of the enemy, 
was soon spread far and wide among both our friends 
and foes ; producing everywhere the liveliest emotions 
of joy or sorrow, according as the hearers happened to 
be well or ill affected towards us. The impression which 
it made on our honored executive, was sweeter to our 
thoughts than honey or the honey-comb. For on the 
fifth day after our last flaggellation of the tories, in came 
an express from Governor Rutledge, with a commission 
of brigadier-general for Marion, and a full colonel's com- 
mission for me. Having always looked up to my coun- 
try as to a beloved mother, whose liberty and prosperity 
were inseparably connected with my own, it is no wonder 
that I should have been so delighted at hearing her say, 
by her favorite son. Governor Rutledge, that, reposing 
especial trust in my courage, conduct, and attention to 
her interests, she had appointed me a colonel in her 
armies, etc. etc. 

Scarcely had I perused my commission, bcfc;c 
Marion reached me his ; and with a smile, desired me to 
read it. Soon as I came to his new title, " brigadier- 



GEN. FRA NCIS MARION. 1 49 

general/* I snatched his hand and exclaimed, " Huzza ! 
God save my friend ! my noble General Marion ! gen- 
eral ! general ! Aye that will do ! that will do ! that 
sounds somewhat in unison with your deserts." 

'- Well, but what do you think of the style," replied 
he, " and of the prerogative — is it not prodigiously in 
the pompous ? ' ' 

" Not at all," said I. 

" No," continued he ; " why now to my notion, it is 
very much in the turgid, in the Asiatic. It gives me 
dominions from river to river, and from the mountains 
to the great sea, like Tamerlane or Ghenghis Khan ; or 
like George III. 'by the grace of God, king of Great 
Britain, France,' etc., etc., whereas, poor George dares 
not set a foot there, even to pick up a periwinkle." 

" Well, but general," said I, " as the English gave 
France to George because they wish him to have it, so 
I suppose the good governor gives you this vast district 
for the same reason.'* 

" Perhaps so," replied Marion. 

The truth is. Governor Rutledge was a most ardent 
lover of his country ; and, therefore almost adored such 
an unconquerable patriot as Marion. 

Hence, when he found, that notwithstanding the 
many follies and failures of northern generals and 
armies ; notwithstanding the victories, and proclama- 
tions, and threats of Cornwallis and Tarleton, Marion 
still stood his ground, and fought and conquered for 
Carolina ; his whole soul was so filled with love of him, 
that I verily believe he would have given him " all the 
kingdoms of the earth and the glory thereof," had they 



150 THE LIFE OF 

been in his gift. Indeed what he did give him was 
sketched out with a prodigiously bold hand. He gave 
him all that territory, comprehended within a line drawn 
from Charleston along the sea, to Georgetown ; thence 
westerly to Camden ; and thence to Charleston again ; 
making a domain of extent, population, and wealth, im- 
mense ; but over which the excellent governor had, no 
more power to grant military jurisdiction, than to give 
kingdoms in the moon ; for the whole of it was in the 
hands of the British, and their friends the tories ; so 
that the governor had not a foot to give Marion ; nor 
did Marion hold a foot of it but by his own vigilance 
and valor ; which were so extraordinary, that his 
enemies, with all their men, money, and malice, could 
never drive him out of it. 

But while Governor Rutledge, with all the good 
whigs of the state, were thus heartily rejoicing with 
Marion for his victories, the British and tories were as 
madly gnashing their teeth upon him for the same. To 
be struck four such severe blows, in so short a time, 
and all rising one over another in such cursed climax of 
bad to worse ; to be losing, in this manner, their dear 
allies, with all their subsidies of arms, ammunition, and 
money ; to have their best friends thus cooled ; their 
worst enemies thus heated ; and rank rebellion again 
breaking Up, out of a soil where they had promised 
themselves nothing but the richest fruits of passive 
obedience : and all this by a little ugly spawn of a 
Frenchman I It was too much ! they could not stand 
it. Revenge they must and would have ; that was 
ri^rtain : and since, with all their efforts, they could not 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 15 j 

get at Marion, the hated trunk and root of all, they 
were determined to burn and sweat his branches, 
the poor whigs, i.e. to carry the curses of fire and 
sword through all their families and habitations. 

Now, had this savage spirit appeared among a few 
poor British cadets, or piney wood tories, it would not 
have been so lamentable. Their ignorance of those 
divine truths, which exalt the soul above such hellish 
passions, would have furnished some plea for them 
But, that a British general, and that general a noble- 
man ! a lord ! with an archbishop for his brother, and 
hot-pressed bibles, and morocco prayer books, and all 
such excellent helps, to teach him that *' God is love," 
and '^ mercy his delight ; " that such a one, I say, should 
have originated, the infernal warfare, of plundering, 
burning, and hanging the American patriots, is most 
horrible. And yet, if possible, more true than horrible. 
Yes, sure as the day of doom, when that fearful day 
shall come, and Lord Cornwallis, stripped of his " brief 
authority," shall stand, a trembling ghost before that 
equal bar: then shall the evil spirit from the black bud- 
get of his crimes, snatch the following bloody order, and 
grinning an insulting smile, flash it before his lordship's 
terrified optics. 

August 18, 1780, 
To Lieuteiimit-Colonel Ct tiger, commandant at the 
British garrison at Ninety-six. 

Sir: 

I have given orders that all the inhabitants of this 
province, who had submitted, and who have taken a 



152 THE LIFE OF 

part in this revolt, shall be punished with the greatest 
rigor ; that they shall be imprisoned, and their whole 
property taken from them or destroyed. I have like- 
wise directed, that compensation should be made out 
of their effects, to persons who have been plundered 
and oppressed by them. I have ordered, in the most 
positive manner, that every militia-man who had borne 
arms with us, and had afterwards joined the enemy, 
should be immediately hanged. I have now sir, only to 
desire that you will take the most vigorous measures 
to extinguish the rebellion in the district which you 
command, and that you will obey, in the strictest man- 
ner, the directions I have given in this letter, relative to 
the treatment of this country. 

This order of Lord Cornwallis proved to South 
Carolina like the opening of Pandora's box. Instantly 
there broke forth a torrent of cruelties and crimes never 
before heard of in our simple forests. Lord Rawdon 
acted, as we shall see, a shameful part in these bloody 
tragedies, and so did Colonel Tarleton. But the officer 
who figured most in executing the detestable orders of 
Cornwallis, was a Major Weymies. This man was, by 
birth, a Scotchman ; but, in principle and practice, a 
Mohawk. So totally destitute was he of that amiable 
sympathy which belongs to his nation, that, in sailing 
up Winyaw bay, and Waccamaw and Pedee rivers, he 
landed, and pillaged, and burnt every house he durst 
approach ! Such was the style of his entry upon our 
afflicted state, and such the spirit of his doings through- 



GEN, FRANCIS. MARWIV. 153 

out : for wherever he went, an unsparing destruction 
awaited upon his footsteps. 

Unhappily, our country had but too many pupils 
that fitted exactly such a preceptor. The lazy, dram- 
drinking, plunder-loving tories, all gloried in Major 
Weymies : and were ever ready, at the winding of his 
horn, to rush forth with him, like hungry bloodhounds, 
on his predatory excursions. The dogs of hell were all 
now completely uncoupled, and every devilish passion 
in man had its proper game to fly at. Here was a fine 
time for malice to feed her ancient grudges ; for avarice 
to cram her maw with plunder, and revenge to pay off 
her old scores, with bloody interest. 

A thievish tory, who had been publicly whipped by 
a whig magistrate, or had long coveted his silver tankard 
or his handsome rifle, or his elegant horse, had but to 
point out his house to Major Weymies, and say, " There 
lives a d — d rebel." The amiable major and his myrmi- 
dons, would surround the noble building in a trice; and 
after gutting it of all its rich furniture, would reduce it 
to ashes. It was in vain that the poor delicate mother 
and her children, on bended knees, with wringing hands 
and tear-swimming eyes implored him to pity, and not 
to burn their house over their heads. Such eloquence, 
which has often moved the breasts of savages, was all 
lost on Major Weymies and his banditti. They no 
more regarded the sacred cries of angel-watched chil- 
dren than the Indians do the cries of the young beavers, 
whose houses they are breaking up. 

But, oh, joy eternal ! " the Lord is king." His law 
is love, and they who sin against this law, soon or 



^54 



THE LIFE OF 



late, shall find that they have sinned against their 
own souls. 

A planter, in his fields, accidentally turning towards 
his house, suddenly discovers a vast column of smoke 
bursting forth, and ascending in black curling volumes 
to heaven. "Oh my God! my house!" he exclaims, 
" my poor wife and children ! " Then, half bereft of his 
Senses, he sets off and runs towards his house. Still, as 
he cuts the air, he groans out, " Oh,, my poor wife and 
children !'' Presently he hears their cries : he sees 
them at a distance with outstretched arms flying 
towards him. "Oh, pa! pa! pa!" his children tremblingly 
exclaim ; while his wife, all pale and out of breath, falls 
on his bosom, and, feebly crying out, " The British ! oh 
the British," sinks into a swoon. 

Who can tell the feelings of the father and the 
husband ! His wife convulsed in his arms ! his little 
beggared children screaming around him ! and his prop- 
erty all sinking to ruin, by merciless enemies ! Pres- 
ently his wife, after a strong fit, with a deep sigh, comes 
to herself ; he wipes her tears ; he embraces and hushes 
his children. By and by, supposing the British to be 
gone, arm in arm the mournful group return. But ah, 
.shocking sight ! their once stately mansion, which shone 
so beauteous on the plain, the pride and pleasure of 
their eyes, is now the prey of devouring flames. Their 
slaves have all disappeared; their stock, part is taken 
away, part lies bleeding in the yard, stabbed by bayon- 
ets ; their elegant furniture, tables, glasses, clocks, beds, 
all is swallowed up. An army of passing demons could 
have done no worse. But while with tearful eyes they 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 155 

by the fire, down comes the tall building with a thunder- 
ing crash to the ground. The frightened mourners 
start aghast from the hideous squelch, and weep afresh 
to see all the hopes and glories of their state thus 
suddenly ended in smoke and ashes. 

It was in this way exactly that the British treated 
my brother. Major Hugh Horry, as brave a soldier as 
ever fought in America. They laid in ashes all his 
dwelling houses, his barns of clean rice, and even his 
rice stacks ! Destroyed his cattle ; carried off eighty 
negroes, which were all he had, not leaving him one to 
bake him a cake. Thus, in one hour, as the wild Arabs 
served Job, did the British serve my poor brother, 
breaking him up root and branch ; and, from a state of 
affluence, reduced him to a dunghill. 

These savage examples, first set by the British, and 
followed by the tories, soon produced the effect which 
Marion had all along predicted. They filled the hearts 
of the sufferers with the deadliest hate of the British ; 
and brought them, in crowds, to join his standard, with 
muskets in their hands, and vows of revenge eternal in 
their mouths. 

Hence it was that nothing so pleased Marion as to 
hear of British cruelty to his countrymen. 

"'Tis a harsh medicine," he used to say, "but it is 
necessary ; for there is nothing else that will work them. 
And unless they are well worked and scoured of their 
mother milk, or beastly partiality to the English, they 
are lost. Our country is like a man who has swallowed 
a mortal poison. Give him an anodyne to keep him 
easy, and he's a dead man. But if you can only knock 



156 THE LIFE OP * 

him about, and so put the poison in motion as to make 
him deadly sick at the stomach, and heave like a dog 
with a bone in his throat, he is safe. Cornwallis has all 
this time been lulling them by his proclamations, and 
protections, and lies. But, thank God, that time is 
pretty well over now; for these unfeeling monsters, 
these children of the devil, have let out the cloven foot, 
and the thing is now beginning to work as I expected. 
Our long deluded people are opening their eyes, and 
beginning to see and smell the blood and burnings of 
that Tophct, that political hell of slavery and ruin, to 
which the British army is now endeavoring, by murder 
and rapine, to reduce them.'* 

This was truly the case : for every day the whigs 
were coming into Marion's camp. Those who were too 
old to fight themselves, would call upon their sturdy 
boys to "turn out and join General Marion." 

It was diverting to see how they would come staving 
upon their tackles ; belted round with their powder-horns 
and shot-bags, with rifles in hand, and their humble 
homespun streaming in the air. The finely curling 
smile brightened in the face of Marion ; and his eye 
beamed that laughing joy, with which a father meets his 
thoughtless boy, returning dirty and beaten by black- 
guards, from whose dangerous company he had sought 
in vain a thousand times to wean him. 

"Well, my son ! " Marion would say, " and what good 
news do you bring us V 

"Why, why, why, sir general," replies the youth, 
half-cocked with rage, and stammering for words, " as I 
was overlook- ng my father's negroes in the rice grounds, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



157 



the British and tories came and took them and carried 
them all away ; and I only am left alone to tell you." 

Presently another comes and says : " As I was driv- 
ing the horses and cattle down to the pasture, the British 
and tories fell upon them, and carried them all away; 
and I alone am left to tell you." 

While he was yet speaking, another comes and says : 
" The British and tories came with fire and burnt our 
houses and goods, and have driven my mother and the 
children into the woods ; and I only am left alone to 
tell you." 

Next comes another, who says : " My father and 
myself were ploughing together in the field, and the 
British and tories came upon us and shot my father ! 
and I only am left alone to tell you." 

Another comes and tells, that " Lord Rawdon is 
taking the whig prisoners every week, out of the jail in 
Camden, and hanging them up by half dozens, near the 
windows, like dead crows in a corn field, to frighten the 
rest, and make good tories of them." 

Another states, that " Colonel Charles Pinckney, 
prisoner in Charleston, for striking a couple of insolent 
negroes, was cursed by the British officers as a d — d 
rebel, and driven with kicks and blows into the house, 
for daring to strike his Britannic Majesty's subjects ! " 

Here Marion snapped his fingers for joy, and shouted, 
" Huzza ! that's right ! that's right ! O my noble Britons, 
lay on ! lay on the spaniels stoutly ! they want British 
protections, do they.'* O the rogues! show them no 
quarter, but give it to them handsomely ! break their 
backs like dogs! cut them over the face an.i eyes like 



158 The life of 

are looking round on the widespread ruin, undermined 
cats ! bang them like asses ! thank ye ! thank ye, Corn- 
walHs and Rawdon ! most noble lords, I thank ye ! you 
have at last brought the wry face upon my countrymen, 
the cold sweat, the sardonic grin. Thank God ! the 
potion begins to work ! huzza, my sons ! heave ! heave ! 
aye, there comes the bile ; the atrabiliary ; the black 
vomiting which portends death to the enemy. Now 
Britons, look to your ships, for Carolina will soon be too 
hot to hold you." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



«S9 



\ 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Colonel Tynes, the famous tory partisan, attempts to surprise Marion — 
is himself surprised and taken, with nearly all his party — the author, 
with thirty choice cavaliers, sent by Marion to reconnoitre — defeat of a 
British party of horse — anecdote of Scotch Macdonald — surprise and 
slaughter of the tories — Captain Lewis is killed — anecdote of an ex- 
traordinary lad. 

Soon after this last victory on Pedee, Marion moved 
down into the neighborhood of Black river; where he 
instantly got notice, that a^iarge body of tories under 
the celebrated Colonel Tynes, were making great 
preparations to attack him. This Tynes was a man of 
valor and address worthy of a better cause. In several 
contests with the whigs, he had handled them very 
roughly ; and was become such a terror to the friends of 
liberty in that part of the world, that they were greatly 
aJarmed on finding that he was mustering all his forces 
to attack Marion. We were scarcely encamped, before 
three expresses arrived from the whig settlements on 
Black river, stating Colonel Tynes' movements ; and ad- 
vising to keep a good look out, for that he was a very 
artful and dangerous fellow. According to their con- 
jectures, Colonel Tynes must have had no less than one 
hundred and fifty men : our number did not quite reach 
ninety, but they were all volunteers, and exceedingly 
chafed and desperate in their minds, by the barbarous 



l6o THE LIFE OF 

usage of the British and tories. Having, by this day*s 
march of fifty miles, got within twenty miles of the 
enemy, who supposed that we were still on Pedee, 
Marion instantly resolved to attack him that night. No 
sooner was this made known to the troops, than the 
fatigues of the day appeared to be entirely forgotten. 
All hands fell to work, currying, rubbing and feeding their 
horses, like young men preparing for a ball or barbecue. 
Then after a hearty supper and a few hours' sleep, we 
all sprang upon our chargers again, and dashed off about 
one o'clock, to try our fortune with Colonel Tynes. Just 
before day, we came upon the enemy, whom we found 
buried in sleep. The roar of our guns first broke their 
.slumbers ; and by the time the frightened wretches had 
got upon their legs, man and horse, we were among them 
hewing down. Three and thirty fell under our swords ; 
forty-six were taken ; the rest, about sixty, made their 
escape. Colonel Tynes himself, with upwards of one 
hundred horses, and all the baggage, fell into our hands- 

A day or two after this victory, the general ordered 
me to take Captain Baxter, Lieutenant Postell, and Ser- 
geant Macdonald, with thirty privates, and see if I could 
not gain some advantage over the enemy near the lines 
of Georgetown. About midnight we crossed Black river ; 
and, pushing on in great silence through the dark woods, 
arrived at dawn of day near the enemy's sentries, where 
we lay in ambush close on the road. Just after the usual 
hour of breakfast, a chair, with a couple of young ladies^ 
squired by a brace of British officers elegantly mounted, 
came along at a sweeping rate from Georgetown. 

They had not passed us more than fifty steps, before 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. i6i 

they stopped short. I was confoundedly afraid at first 
that they had, somehow or other, smelt a rat ; but it 
turned out, as we afterwards learned, that this was only 
a little courting party, going into the country to dine. 
On getting into the gloomy woods, the girls were taken 
with a quaking fit for their sweethearts, lest that vile 
"swamp fox," as they called Marion, should come 
across them. Whereupon the halt aforesaid was ordered* 
and a consultation held ; the result of which was, that 
the girls should go on to their friend's house, and 
the officers back to town for a party of dragoons. 
Accordingly the chair proceeded, and the officers 
galloped back by us, undisturbed : for we did not think 
it worth while to risk an alarm for the sake of a couple 
of officers. Presently beginning to feel, very hungry, 
for we had travelled all night and eaten nothing, we 
agreed to retire to the house of a neighboring planter, 
who was known to be a good whig. As we entered the 
yard, what should we see but the identical chair that 
had passed us a little before ! and on stepping into the 
house beheld the very same young ladies ! They were 
rijchly dressed, and well fornxed, and would no doubt 
have appeared handsome, but for the hostile passions 
which glared from their eyes, and gave their whole 
physiognomy a fury-like expression. They asked us, 
with great pertness, " what business we had there .<* The 
gentleman of the house," continued they, " is not at 
home, and there are no provisions here for you, and 
to be sure, you are too much of gentlemen to think of 
frightening a family of poor helpless women ! " 

Happily I made no reply; for while these young 

11 



i62 THE LIFE OF 

viragoes were catechising us at this rate, I discovered 
with much pleasure, that the lady of the house did not 
utter a word, but walked the room backward and forward 
with a smiling countenance. Presently she went out ; 
and showing herself at an opposite window, beckoned 
me to come to her; when she said, in a low voice, "Go 
back into the house, I'll be there directly. On my 
stepping in you must demand provisions ; I will deny 
that I have any. You must then get into a violent 
passion, and swear you will have them, or set the house 
on fire. I will then throw down the keys, and you can 
take just what you want; for thank God, there is 
enough, both for you and your horses." 

Such was the farce, which the whigs in those days, 
both ladies and gentlemen, were obliged to play, when 
they had any of their tory acquaintance about them. We 
now played it, and with the desired success ; for the 
troughs in the yard were all presently filled with corn and 
fodder for our cavalry ; Avhile for ourselves the good- 
natured cook wenches soon served up a most welcome re- 
past of fried bacon and eggs, with nice hearth cakes and 
butter and milk. " God be praised," said we ; and down 
we sat, and made a breakfast, of which even kings, with- 
out exercise and keen appetites, can form no idea. 

Just as we had got completely refreshed, and braced up 
again, what should we hear but the firing of our sentinels. 
" To horse ! to horse ! my brave fellows ! " was the cry of 
one and all. Quick as thought, we were all mounted and 
formed, when in came our sentinels, with the British dra- 
goons hard after them, smack up to the fence. Charge 
boys, charge ! was the word. In a moment the yard was 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 163 

bright with the shining of our swords. The tory girls 
shrieked out for their sweethearts — " Oh the British ! the 
British — murder ! murder Oh ! '' Then off we went, all at 
once, in a solid column. The enemy took to their heels, 
and we pursued. Over the fence we bounded like stags. 
Down the hill went the British. Down the hill went we ; 
helter-skelter, man and horse, we flew ; roaring through 
che woods like the sound of distant thunder. 

We were all excellently mounted ; but there was no 
horse that could hold the way with Selim. He was 
the hindmost of all when the chase began ; and I won- 
dered at first what had become of Selim ; but presently 
I saw him and Macdonald coming up on my right like a 
thundergust. Indeed, with his widespread nostrils, and 
long extended neck, and glaring eyeballs, he seemed 
as a flying dragon in chase of his prey. He soon had 
his master up with the enemy; I saw when Macdonald 
drew his claymore. The shining of his .steel was ter- 
rible, as, rising on his stirrups, with high-lifted arm, he 
waved it three times in fiery circles over his head, as if 
to call up all his strength. Then, with a voice of thunder, 
he poured his charging shout, dreadful as the roar of 
the lion when, close up to his game, with hideous paws 
unclenched, he makes his last spring on the fat buffaloes 
of his chase. 

Though their mortal enemy, I could not but pity the 
poor fugitives, for I saw that their death was at hand. 
One of the British officers fired a pistol at him, but with- 
out effect : before he could try another, he was cut down 
by Macdonald. After this, at a blow apiece, he sealed 
the eyes of three dragoons in lasting sleep. Two feD 



1 64 THE LIFE OF 

beneath the steel of the strong-handed Snipes ; nor did 
my sword return bloodless to its scabbard. In short, of 
the whole party, consisting of twenty- five, not a man 
escaped, except one officer, who, in the heat of the chase 
and carnage, cunningly shot off, at right angles, for a 
swamp, which he luckily gained, and so cleared himself. 

The name of this officer was Meriot, and as finished 
a gentleman he was too, as I ever saw. I got ac- 
quainted with him after the war, at New York. Soon 
as the ceremony of introduction was over, he smiled, 
and asked if I were not in the skirmish just related } 
On being answered in the affirmative, he again inquired 
if I did not recollect how handsomely one of the British 
officers gave me the slip that day ? I told him I did. 
"Well," continued he, "I was that officer; and of all 
the frights I ever had in my life, that was the most 
complete. Will you believe me, sir, when I assure you, 
that I went out that morning, with my locks of as bright 
an auburn as ever curled upon the forehead of youth ; 
and by the time I had crawled out of the swamp, into 
Georgetown, that night, they were as gray as a badger! 
I was well nigh taking an oath never to forgive you dur- 
ing breath, for frightening m-e so confoundedly. But, 
away with all malice ! let it go to the devil, where it 
belongs. So come, you must go dine with me, and I'll 
show you a lovelier woman than either of those that rode 
in the chair that day." 

I went with him, and was introduced to his wife, a 
lovely woman indeed ! to whom, with great glee, he re- 
lated the whole history of the chase, and his own narrow 
escape, and then laughed very heartily. But not so his 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 155 

gentle partner. For, as he told of the shrill whizzing of 
our swords close behind him, and of the groans of his 
dragoons, as they fell, cut down from their horses, her 
face turned pale, and pensive ; then, looking at him 
with great tenderness, she heaved a deep sigh, to think 
how near her husband had been to death. 

Meriot looked with pleasure on the troubled coun- 
tenance of his lovely wife, because he well knew the 
fond source of her troubles. Then, snatching up a 
goblet of sangree, richly mantled over with nutmeg, he 
presented it to her ruby lips, saying, " Come, my dear, 
drink, and forget the past 1 " Then, taking my hand 
with great cordiality, he exclaimed, " Well, Colonel 
Horry, we have been foes, but thank God, we are good 
friends again. And now let me drink to you a senti- 
ment of my heart, here's friendship in marble, enmity 
in dust." 

The behavior of this noble Englishman, has often 
served to deepen my abhorrence of war, which too fre- 
quently sets those to cutting each other's throats, who 
were born to be brothers. 

But to return to our story. " Meriot," you'll say. 
" and his brother officer, brought their pigs to a bad 
market." Yes, indeed : but not a jot worse than some 
of their friends came to the very day afterwards. On 
the morning of that day, Marion, now concealed in the 
swamps, near Georgetown, was pleased to order me out 
on a second excursion. " Take Captain Snipes," said he 
" with thirty men, and proceed down the Sandpit road, 
in quest of the enemy. The moment you discover them 



1 66 THE LIFE OP 

wliether Britisher tories, charge with spirit, and I'll 
warrant your success." 

As we approached the bridge; still moving on very 
circumspectly, in the woods, we discovered at a short 
distance, a body of horsemen, perhaps a hundred, ap- 
parently in great confusion, and very anxious to form. 
Instantly we took the road, and clapping spurs to our 
horses, dashed upon them at full speed, at the same time 
shouting as we rushed on. The enemy broke and fled 
in all directions. We pursued. Then you might have 
seen the woods all covered with armed men ; some fly- 
ing, others pursuing ; and with muskets, and pistols, 
and swords, shooting and cutting down as fast as they 
could. 

From the unevenness of the ground, and rapidity of 
the charge, my men were all soon out of sight, leaving 
with me but a lad of fourteen, named Gwinn, who carried 
a musket. At this instant, a party of nine or ten men 
were seen advancing, whom I took for whigs, and chal- 
lenged as such, asking if they were not friends ? 
" Friends ! O yes ! " replied their captain, (one Lewis) 
" friends to be sure ; friends to King George ! " 

Quick as thought, off went Gwinn's musket, close 
by my side, and down tumbled Captain Lewis from his 
horse, with a heavy squelch, to the ground. But in the 
very instant of receiving his death, his musket which 
was raised to kill me, took fire and shot my horse dead 
on the spot. Seeing my horse drop, Gwinn dism-ounted 
and led his horse up to me in a moment. , 

Happily for us both, Captain Snipes heard the re- 
port of our pieces, and thinking that we might be in 



CEr^. FRANCIS MARION. 167 

danger, dashed on to our aid, with several of my troops 
whooping and huzzaing as they came on. The tory 
party then fired at us, but without effect, and fled leav- 
ing four of Marion's men, whom they had just taken, 
and beaten very barbarously with the butts of their 
muskets. 

This was a fatal day to the tories, who must have 
lost more than half their number. For I had with me 
not only Macdonald and Snipes, but several other very 
strong and brave men, whose families had suffered very 
severely, by British and tory cruelty, and, I am afraid, 
they did not forget this, when their swords were hang- 
ing over the heads of the fugitives. At any rate, they 
took but few prisoners. 

In the course of this day's fighting, there happened 
an affair which served to amuse us not a little on our 
return to our camp that night. The tories, who, from 
time to time had fallen into our hands, were often easing 
their vexation, by saying, that it was true, " Marion had 
proved too cunning for Colonel Tynes and Captain Bar- 
field, and other British and loyal officers, whom he had 
attacked; but that there was still one left behind, who, 
they were sure, if he could come forward, would soon 
show us quite a different sort of play ; and that was 
Colonel Gainey, from the head waters of Pedee." We 
answered, that it was all very well ; and that we should 
be glad to see Colonel Gainey. Now, as God was 
pleased to have it, who should it be, that with one-third 
of his number, we had been chasing so to-day, but 
Colonel Gainey ; a stout officer-looking fellow he was 
too, and most nobly mounted. Macdonald made a dash 



1 68 THS LIFE OF 

at him, in full confidence of getting a gallant charger 
But the good book tells us, that " the race is not always 
to the swift ; " and owing partly to the fleetness of his 
horse, and partly to a most extraordinary sort of acci- 
dent, Colonel Gainey made his escape from our Scots- 
man. The chase was towards Georgetown, distant little 
more than two miles. Never on earth did two horses 
or horsemen make greater exertions. Fear impelling 
the one, fury urging the other. Macdonald declared* 
that in the chase he had passed several tories whom he 
could easily have cut down, but like the lion in pursuit 
of a favorite buffalo, he took no notice of them. His 
eye was fixed on Colonel Gainey. Just as they turned 
Richmond corner, Selim had brought his master near 
enough to his prey to make a stroke at him with his 
bayonet. By a sudden jerk, it is supposed, the weapon 
turned ; so that when Macdonald drew back the carbine, 
he left the bayonet up to the hilt in his back. In this 
way Colonel Gainey rode into town, prodigiously to his 
own and the mortification of his friends the British and 
tories. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 169 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Spirit of the tones — assassination of Lieutenant Marion — the murderer 
tnnrdered — Marion's reflections on the death of his nephew — his manner 
of rewarding extraordinary courage among his men — sketch of the brave 
boy Gwinn. 

* If mortal hands thy peace destroy, 

Or friendship's gifts bestow, 
Wilt thou to man ascribe the joy — 
To man impute the woe ? 

* Tis GOD. whose thoughts for wisest end* 

The human lots dispose ; 
Around thee plants assisting friends, 

Or heaps chastising foes. 

Not from the bow the deaths proceed. 

But from the Archer's skill, 
He lends the winged shaft its speed 

And gives it power to kill," 

And here I must relate a tragical affair that befel us 
that day, and which filled us all with grief, because of 
our beloved general. I mean the barbarous murder of 
his nephew. Of all men who ever drew the sword, 
Marion was one of the most humane. He not only pre- 
vented all cruelty, in his own presence, but strictly for- 
bade it in his absence. I have known him to talk for a 
quarter of an hour together, with one of his men, for 
striking over the head, a horse that had started, and to 



170 THE LIFE OF 

punish another for taking away from a negro, his ragged 
chicken. To reason then like men, one would suppose 
that he was the last person on whom such a cruel blow 
as the murder of a favorite nephew should have fallen. 
But thanks to God, for that most comfortable doctrine, 
that not even a sparrow can die until his death-warrant 
has been signed in heaven ; and, since this young man 
did die at that time, there can be no doubt but that was 
the right time. 

The manner of his death was this. We have told the 
reader, that in the course of this day's fighting, we retook 
from the tories four of Marion's men, whom they had 
very barbarously beaten with the butts of their guns. 
On being asked how they came to fall into such bad 
company, they said, that immediately after sending me off, 
in the morning, Marion got information that a party of 
tories were encamped not far distant, on a plantation of 

Colonel Alston's called " The Penns." Captain M 

was despatched to surprise them , but he played his 
cards so badly, that, instead of surprising them, they 
surprised him, killed several of his men, and took the 
others. Among the prisoners was the general's nephew, 
Lieutenant Gabriel Marion, of the continentals, who; 
happening at that time on a visit to his uncle, turned 
out a volunteer, and was taken. The tories murdered 
several of their unfortunate prisioners in cold blood, b) 
first beating them over the head with the butts of their 
muskets, and then shooting them. They said that Lieu- 
tenant Marion, at sight of such horrid scenes, appeared 
much shocked : and seeing among them a man who had 
often been entertained at his uncle's table, he flew to 



GEN FRANCIS MARION X71 

him for protection, and threw himself into his arms. The 
man seemed greatly distressed, and tried hard to save 
him ; but the others roared out, that ** he was one of the 
breed of that d — d old rebel," and that they would liave 
his heart's blood. They, moreover, swore, with the most 
horrid oaths, that if the man did not instantly push 
young Marion from him. they would blow him through 
also. The unfortunate youth being then thrust from 
the side of his friend, was immediately destroyed. 

• I hope the tender mercies of God are so great as not 
to let our unworthiness prevent him from always doing 
what is exactly right and good for us. We ought not 
therefore, to breathe a wish different from the will and 
order of Providence. But still, to us, it seems a great 
pity we did not get notice of Captain M 's advanc- 
ing. We could have made a handsome joint attack of 
it. and thereby not only have prevented the horrid mur- 
ders above related, but have scourged those barbarians, 
as they deserved. For we heard the firing, but thought 
it was Colonel Alston's people killing beeves, 

Among the very few prisoners that we made in our 
last action, was a mulatto fellow, who was suspected to 
be one of those who had murdered the general's nephew. 
Whether the suspicion was well or ill founded, I cannot 
say : but, certain it is, that the indignation excited 
against him, on that account, soon proved his destruc- 
tion. For, as we were crossing the swamps of Black 
river that night, an officer rode up to him, while march- 
ing in the line of prisoners under guard, and with a pis- 
tol, shot him dead on the spot. The captain of the 
guard was instantly sent for, and severely reprimanded 



172 THE LIFE OF 

by the general, for not having killed the author of that 
savage deed. 

It was said the officer had offered a bottle of rum to 
have the mulatto shot, but, finding none that would do 
it, he did it himself. I do not give this as a fact, but, I 
know it was the talk in camp, though carefully kept 
from the general, as everybody knew it would have 
g m him great pain. He often said, " he truly lamented 
li^ untimely death of his nephew; and that he had 
been told, that this poor man was his murderer. But 
that, as a prisoner, his life ought to have been held most 
sacred ; especially as the charge against him was with- 
out evidence, and, perhaps, no better than conjecture. 
As to my nephew," continued he, " I believe he was 
cruelly murdered : but living virtuously, as he did and 
then dying fighting for the rights of man, he is, no 
doubt, happy : and this is my comfort." 

The next day Marion ordered the troops under arms, 
and formed them into a large circle, all fronting the 
centre. While we were wondering what could be the 
meaning of this strange manoeuvre, a sergeant was seen 
leading into the circle an elegant horse, under saddle 
and bridle, with portmanteau, sword, pistols, and mus- 
ket. This was the horse, furniture, and arms of Captain 
Lewis, whom the lad Gwinn, so fortunately for me, had 
killed in the action three days before. Marion then 
called Gwinn from the ranks. 

The boy approached him with his hat off. 

The general, placing his hand upon his head, in the 
presence of the whole squadron, pronounced him "a 



'^jEN. FRANCIS MARION. 173 

brave little man ; and there," pointing to the horse and 
furniture, " there is the reward of your gallantry." 

" Gwinn, sir," said I, " is not a good soldier, he fired 
without order." 

" That's very true," replied he, " but I am sure 
colonel, you are the last that ought to blame me, on 
that account ; for if I had not fired and killed Captain 
Lewis, exactly as I did, he would have killed you ; and 
besides, his saying he was the friend of George the Third, 
was enough for me ; I did not think I could fire too 
quick on such a man as that." 

But when the sergeant, at the order of Marion, led 
up to him the horse, richly furnitured, as aforesaid, the 
confusion and grimace of the lad were truly diverting. 
He blushed, he chuckled, he looked round and round 
upon his comrades, as if at a loss how to contain him- 
self, or what to do. At length he made shift to reach 
out his hand to the bridle, though deeply blushing, and 
said, •* Dear me now ! well la ! what will mammy think, 
and the children, when they come to see me, riding up 
here on this famous horse, and all these fine things ! I 
know well enough how mammy will have a hearty cry, 
that's what she will ; for she will think I stoled him. 
But if any of the folks up our way should go to jaw 
about me, at that rate, I trust as how, general, you will 
take my part, and set 'em straight." 

Marion smiled, and commended him for a good boy, 
and told him to give his compliments to his mother, and 
also his thanks to her, for being such a true mother to 
her children, in bringing them up so honestly. 

But t] ^ general was told the next day, that Gwinn 



174 THE LIFE OP 

had said, "he always hated the tories, because the^ 
would not fight for their country ; and, since the general 
had paid him so well for killing one of them, he was 
determined to try if he could not kill more. 

And he did kill more too, I'll warrant him, for he 
was with us to the end of the war, in many a hard brush. 
And the ;. he was such a dead shot with a rifle ! Stand- 
ing, running, or flying, it was all one to Gwinn. He 
would make nothing, at a hundred yards, to stop you a 
buck, at full tilt through the woods, as hard as he could 
crack it; and at every clip, to bring down the squirrels 
from the tops of the tallest trees of the forest. 



• CEN. FRANCIS MARION. 175 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Mutiny in our camp — Marion suppresses it — his address to the officers. 

This war, though on our part a war of virtue, was 
not always so pleasant as might have been expected. 
Instances of human weakness often occurred to disturb 
our harmony, and fill good men's hearts with sorrow. 
For how, without grief, could we behold a man fighting 
by our side to-day like a hero, for the rights of bleeding 
humanity ; to-morrow, like a headstrong child, or a 
headlong beast, trampling them under foot ! And oh, 
how sad to see nature's goodliest gifts, of manly size, 
and strength, and courage, set off, too, in the proudest 
ornaments of war, the fierce cocked hat, the flaming 
regimentals, and golden shoulder-knots, all defeated of 
their power to charm, nay, all turned into pity and con- 
tempt, in consequence of our knowing the owners to be 
gamblers, swindlers, and villains ! 

Such was the truly pitiable case of some, in tliisour 
glorious war of liberty. For want of a good education, 
I mean the early precepts of virtue, from a parent's lips, 
with a lew excellent books, to lift the nobJe kindlini s of 
the soul, the flame could not ascend to what was hca'. en- 
ly and just; but with inverted point, struck downward 
to selfishness and vice. Men of this character, though 
enlisted in the war of liberty, were not her soldiers, felt 



176 THE LIFE OF 

not her enthusiasm, nor her consolations. They did not 
walk the camp, glorying in themselves, as men called 
to the honor of humbling the tyrant, and of establishing 
the golden reign of equal laws, in their own dear coun- 
try, and thence, perhaps over all the earth. Alas ! no \ 
strangers to these divine views and wishes, they look no 
higher than sordid gain! and as there was but little of 
that reward to be had, they were often gloomy and low 
spirited, ** Their life," they were wont murmuringly to 
say, " was wearing away ; their country gave them 
nothing, and they must e'en try to do something for 
themselves." 

In truth, plunder, plunder, was what they were spell- 
ing for. They were continually darting their greedy 
eyes upon every piece of merchandise that came in their 
way. They had the heart not only to plunder the tories 
and to bring their unoffending children to want ; but 
also to rob and ruin their own friends the whigs, if they 
could but do it with impunity. 

I am led to these reflections by a most shameful 
affair, which happened in our camp about this time, and 
which threatened consequences as serious as their 
source was shameful. 

We were encamped near the house of a rich man by 
the name of Cross. His wife, in sense and domestic 
virtues, was an Abigail ; while as to her husband, his 
riches, though great, were his least recommendation, for 
he possessed all the generosity and honor of the noblest 
patriot. His soul delighted in Marion, whom he called 
the pillar of our cause. Oft as he took leave of us, for 
battle, his bosom would heave, his visage swell, and the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



177 



tear would start into his eye. And when he saw us re- 
turn again, loaded with the spoils of victory, he would 
rush to meet us with all a brother's transports on his 
face. His flocks and herds, his meat-houses and corn- 
fields, were all our own ; while his generous looks would 
tell us that he still wished for more to give. Indeed, 
often at the most imminent risk of his life, he used to 
send us intelligence, and also furnish us with powder 
and ball. But this most amiable of men, was not per- 
mitted to see our cause triumphant ; for in the midst of 
his sighs and tears for his struggling country, God took 
him to his own rest. The messenger of death came to 
him, in the character of a nervous fever. As the phys- 
icians did not like to visit him on his plantation he was 
carried into Georgetown to be near them. 

Marion went to see him the morning he set out, and 
immediately after his departure, fixed a guard at his 
house, that nothing might be disturbed. One would in- 
deed have supposed it unnecessary to place a guard over 
such a house as his. But alas ! what will not a base 
heart-hardening avarice do ! And I blush while I relate, 
that, the very day after our generous friend was carried 
off, pale and hollow-eyed, to Georgetown, whence he 
never more returned, two of our officers, one of them a 
major, went to his house to pillage it ! 

The guard, of course, opposed : but they damned him 
for an " impertinent rascal," and swore that if he opened 
his mouth again, they would spit him on the spot. 
Then bursting the door, they went in, and after forcing 
the desks, drawers, and trunks, they rifled them of what 
ever they wanted. 

21 



178 THE LIFE OP 

This most unsoldierly and detestable transaction wag 
communicated to me by Mrs. Cross herself ; whose ser- 
vant came to me next morning with her compliments 
and requested that I would go down to her, where she 
was sitting in her carriage at the road. I waited on 
her at once ; and greatly to my grief, found her in tears. 
I entreated to know the cause. 

" Oh, sir," replied she, " we are ruined ! we are 
ruined ! Poor Mr. Cross is, I fear, on his deathbed. 
And then what will become of me and my poor children, 
when he is gone, and everything taken from us ! " Slie 
then reminded me of her husband's love to General Mar- 
ion and his people, from whom he withheld nothing, but 
gladly imparted of all he had, though often at the risk of 
his utter destruction from the British and tories. " And 
yet, after all," said she, " soon as my poor sick husband's 
back is turned, your people can go and break him up ! " 

" Madam," I replied, " I hope 'tis no offence to ask 
your pardon ; for I really cannot admit a suspicion so 
disgraceful to our troop : and to my certain knowledge. 
General Marion placed a guard over your house the 
moment Mr. Cross left it." 

"• Yes, sir," said she, " that's very true. And it was 
like General Marion. But some of our officers have 
forced the guard and broken open the house, and this 
instant I saw one of them with Mr. Cross's sword by his 
side." 

I never felt more mortified in my life. Then, after 
entreating her to be perfectly easy about her house and 
furnituie in future, I took leave of this excellent lady, 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 1 79 

and flew to the guard to see if what I had heard were 
true. 

Me told me it was too true ; mentioned the names 
of the officers ; and even went so far as to show me one 
of them strutting about with the sword by his side ! 

It was well for the wretch, that I did not possess the 
eyes of a basilisk, for I should certainly have blasted him 
on the spot. Pausing, however, one salutary moment, 
to confirm myself in the love of virtue, by noting how 
abominable a villain looks, I hasted to the general with 
the hateful tale ; which excited in his honest bosom the 
indignation which I had expected. Then caUing one of 

his aids, he said, " Go to Major ,and desire him to 

send me Mr. Cross's sword immediately." 

The aid was presently back, but without the sword. 
On being asked by the general, why he had not brought 
it, he replied ; " The major says, sir, that the sword 
does not belong to Mr. Cross. He says moreover, that 
if you want the sword, you must go for it yourself." 

" Well, go back," said the general, '' and desire those 
two officers to come to me." 

It was not for such an affair as this to be kept secret. 
It took wind in a moment ; and by the time the two 
officers were arrived, almost all the field officers had 
come together to the general's quarters, to see how he 
would act on this extraordinary occasion. 

Inferring from the looks of the two culprits, that 
they meant to test his firmness ; and, willing that the 
company should fully understand the merits of the case, 
he thus addressed us : 

"You well know, gentlemen," said he, *'how like a 



i80 THE LIFE OF 

brother the proprietor of this plantation has always 
treated us. We never gained a victory, but it caused. him 
tears of joy ; and however starved by others, by him we 
have ever been feasted. You also know, that he is now 
gone, sick, to Georgetown — there, perhaps, to die. Soon 
as he left us, I placed a guard over his house ; but, at 
the same time, blushed for the reflection cast on my 
men ; all of whom, as I thought, would, instead of rob- 
bing, have defended it with their lives. But, equally to 
my astonishment and grief, I find I was mistaken. Yes, 
gentlemen, our friend has been robbed, not by the poor 
untutored privates in the ranks, but by my officers ! by 
those who ought to have abhorred such an act ! Yes, 
gentlemen, two of our brethren in arms — two of our offi^ 
cers — forgetting what they owed to you, what they 
owed to me, and, most of all, to their country and to 
themselves, have done this odious deed ! And one of 
them (here he pointed to the major) now wears by his 
side the sword of our sick and injured friend. 

" Well knowing that all men, even the best, have too 
often ' done those things which they ought not to have 
done,' I felt it my duty to be as tender with this gentle- 
man as possible ; and therefore, sent him a polite re- 
quest that he would return the sword : to which he was 
pleased to reply, that ' if I wanted it, I must come 
and take it myself.' Still wishing to settle the affair 
in a way as much to his credit as possible, I sent 
for him to come to me. And now, sir, (addressing the 
major) I entreat of you, for the last time, to give me up 
that sword." 

With great rudeness he swore he wc aid not. In- 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. i8i 

stantly every face was dark : and, biting his lip with rage, 
each officer laid his hand upon his sword and looked to 
the general. One word, nay, one assenting look, and the 
brute would have been hewed into mincemeat in a 
moment. For my own part, whether I felt more, or 
governed myself less than the rest, I cannot say : but 
looking to the general, I broke out with an oath, that if 
I commanded as he did, I would have that fellow hung: 
in five minutes. 

" This is no business of yours, sir," replied he, rather 
sternly; "they are now before me." 

Then looking at the major, still with great benginity, 
he said, " And do you really mean, sir, not to give me 
up that sword } " 

" Sir, I will not ! " replied the major. 
" Sergeant of the guard ! " said the general, " bring 
me instantly a file of soldiers ! " 

Upon this, the major's colleague, who stood by, was 
seen to touch him. 

Seeing the guard coming up with their naked 
weapons, and much anger in their look, the major lost 
his courage, turned pale, and, in a sadly altered tone, 
whined out, " General, you needed not to have called 
in the guard. I will deliver up the sword. Here it 
is." 

" No, sir, I will not accept it at your hands. Give 
it to the sergeant." 

To this humiliating order, with much shame and blush- 
ing, the poor major was constrained to comply. 

Thus, happily, were extinguished the first sparks of 
a mutiny, which, it was once thought, would have 



tSa THE LIFE OF 

broken out into a dangerous flame. The cool, dispas- 
sionate address which effected this, did not fail to pro- 
duce a proper impresssion on us all. This the general 
easily perceived in our looks ; and thereupon, as was 
common with him, when any such occasion served, he 
arose and addressed us, in, as nearly as I can recollect, 
the following words : — 

" When, gentlemen, shall we catch the spirit of our 
profession ; the spirit of men fighting for a republic ; a 
commonwealth of brothers ; that government most 
glorious, where God alone is king; that government 
most pleasant, where men make and obey their own 
laws ; and that government m^ost prosperous, where men, 
reaping as they sow, feel the utmost stimulus to every 
virtue that can exalt the human character and condition ! 
This government, the glory of the earth, has ever been 
the desire of the wise and good of all nations. For this, 
the Platos of Greece, the Catos of Rome, the Tells of 
Switzerland, the Sidneys of England, and the Washing- 
tons of America, have sighed and reasoned, have fought 
and died. In this grand army, gentlemen, wc are now 
enlisted ; and are combating under the same banners 
with those excellent men of the earth. Then let self- 
gratulation gladden our very heart, and swell each high- 
toned nerve. With such a cause before our eyes, let us 
move on with joy to the battle, and charge like the 
honored champions of God and of human rights. But, 
in the moment of victory, let the supplicating enemy find 
us as lovely in mercy, as we are terrible in valor. Our 
enemies are blind. They neither understand nor desire 
the happiness of mankind. Ignorant, therefore, as 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 183 

children, they claim our pity for themselves. And as 
to their widows and little ones, the very thought of them 
should fill our souls with tenderness. The crib that 
contains their corn, the cow that gives them milk, the 
cabin that shelters their feeble heads from the storm, 
should be sacred in our eyes. Weak and helpless, as 
they are, still they are the nurslin 'S of heaven ; our 
best intercessors with the Almigh'y. Let them but 
give us their blessings, and I care not how much the 
British curse. Let their prayers ascend up before God 
in our behalf, and Cornwallis and Tarleton shall yet 
flee before us, like frightened wolves before the well 
armed shepherds ! " 

Such were the words of Marion, in the day when 
he saw in our looks, that our hearts were prepared for 
instruction. And such was the epilogue to the mutiny. 
The satisfaction which it gave to the officers was so 
general and sincere, that I often heard them say after- 
wards, that since the mutiny was suppressed, they 
were glad it happened ; for it had given them an op- 
portunity to hear a lecture, which they hoped would 
make them better men and braver soldiers too, as 
long as they lived. 

About this time we received a flag from the enemy 
in Georgetown ; the object of which was, to make 
some arrangements about the exchange of prisoners. 
The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, 
was conducted into Marion's encampment. Having 
heard great talk about General Marion, his fancy had, 
naturally enough, sketched out for him some stout 
figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara or Cornwallis 



1 84 THE LIFE OF 

himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. 
But what was his surprise, when, led into Marion's 
presence, and the bandage taken from his eyes, he 
beheld in our hero, a swarthy, smoke-dried little 
man, with scarce enough of threadbare homespun to 
cover his nakedness ; and in place of tall ranks, of 
gayly dressed 'soldiers, a handful of sunburnt yellow- 
legged militia-men ; some roasting potatoes, and some 
asleep, with their black firelocks and powder-horns 
lying by them on the logs ! Having recovered a little 
from his surprise, he presented his letter to General 
Marion : who perused it, and soon settled everything 
to his satisfaction. 

The officer took up his hat to retire. 

" Oh no ! " said Marion ; " it is now about our time 
of dining ; and I hope, sir, you will give us the 
pleasure of your company to dinner." 

At mention of the word dinner, the British officer 
looked around him ; but to his great mortification, 
could see no sign of a pot, pan, dutch-oven, or any 
other cooking utensil that could raise the spirits of a 
hungry man. 

"Well, Tom," said the general to one of his men, 
"come, give us our dinner." 

The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than 
a heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roast- 
ing under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine 
stick poker, soon liberated from their ashy confine- 
ment ; pinching them, every now and then, with his 
fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they 
were well done or not. Then having cleansed them 



CBtf. FRAtrCIS MARlOtf. 



«8S 



of the ashes, partly by blowing them with his breath 
and partly by brushing them with the sleeve of his 
old cotton shirt, he piled some of the best on a large 
piece of bark, and placed them between the British 
officer and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen pine on 
which they sat. 

" I fear, sir," said the general, " our dinner will 
not prove so palatable to you as I could wish ; but it 
is the best we have." 

The officer, who was a well bred man, took up one 
of the potatoes and affected to feed, as if he had found 
a great dainty ; but it was very plain, that he ate 
more from good manners than from good appetite. 

Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Mar- 
ion looked surprised. " I beg your pardon, general," 
said he ; '' but one cannot, you know, always com- 
mand his conceits. I was thinking how drolly some 
of my brother officers would look, if our government 
were to give them such a bill of fare as this." 

" I suppose," replied Marion, *' it is not equal to 
their style of dining." 

" No, indeed," quoth the officer ; " and this, I 
imagine, is one of your accidental Lent dinners ; a 
sort of a banyan. In general, no doubt, you live a 
great deal better." 

" Rather worse," answered the general ; " for 
often we don't get enough of this." 

"Heavens!" rejoined the officer. "But probably, 
what you lose in meal you make up in malt ; though 
stinted in provisions, you draw noble pay .-* " 

" Not a cent, sir," said Marion, " not a cent." 



j$$ THE LtFM OF 

" Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad 
box. I don't see, general, how you can stand it." 

" Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self- 
approbation, " these things depend on feeling.** 

The Englishman said, he, ** did not believe that it 
would be an easy matter to reconcile his feelings to a 
soldier's life on General Marion's terms ; all fighting, 
and no pay ! and no provisions but potatoes ! " 

" Why, sir," answered the general, " the heart is 
all ; and, when that is much interested, a man can 
do anything. Many a youth would think it hard to 
indent himself a slave for fourteen years. But let 
him be over head and ears in love, and with such a 
beauteous sweetheart as Rachael, and he will think no 
more of fourteen years' servitude than young Jacob 
did. Well, now, this is exactly my case. I am in 
love; and my sweetheart is liberty. Be that heav- 
enly nymph my companion, and these wilds and woods 
shall have charms beyond London and Paris in slavery 
To have no proud monarch driving over me with his 
gilt coaches ; nor his host of excise-men and tax- 
gatherers insulting and robbing me ; but to be my 
own master, my own prince and sovereign, gloriously pre- 
serving my national dignity, and pursuing my true hap- 
piness ; planting my vineyards, and eating their luscious 
fruits ; and sowing my fields, and reaping the golden 
grain : and seeing millions of brothers all around me, 
equally free and happy as myself. This, sir, is what I 
long for." 

The officer replied, that both as a man and a 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 187 

Briton, he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy 
state of things. 

"Happy!" quoth Marion; "yes, happy indeed! 
and I had rather fight for such blessings for my coun- 
try, and feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wallow- 
ing in all the luxuries of Solomon. For now, sir, I walk 
the soil that gave me birth, and exult in the thought that 
I am not unworthy of it. I look upon these venerable 
trees around me, and feel that I do not dishonor them. 
I think of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I have 
not basely deserted them. And when I look forward to 
the long ages of ^^osterity, I glory in the thought that I 
am fighting tbo* .uties. The children of distant gener- 
ations may never hear m> name ; but still it gladdens 
my heart to think that I am now contending for their 
freedom, and all its countless blessings." 

I looked at Marion as he uttered these sentiments, 
and fancied I felt as when I heard the last words of 
the brave De Kalb. The Englishman hung his honest 
head, and looked, I thought, as if he had seen the 
upbraiding ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, Sidney 
and Hampden. 

On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by Col- 
onel Watson, why he looked so serious "i 

" I have cause, sir," said he, " to look serious.'* 

" What ! has General Marion refused to treat ? " 

«No, sir." 

"Well, then, has old Washington defeated Sir Henry 
Clinton, and broke up our army } " 

" No, sir, not that neither ; but worse." 

" Ah ! what can be worse ? " 



1 88 THE LIFE OF 

" Why, sir, I have seen an American general and 
his officers, without pay, and almost without clothes, 
living on roots and drinking water ; and all for 
liberty ! What chance have we against such men ! " 

It is said Colonel Watson was not much obliged to 
him for this speech. But the young officer was so 
struck with Marion's sentiments, that he never rested 
until he threw up his commission, and retired from the 
service. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 189 



CHAPTER XIX. 

" Ah brandy ! brandy ! bane of life, 
Spring of tumult — source of strife : 
Could I but half thy curses tell, 
The wise would wish thee safe at hell." 

Curious and Instructive Anecdote-;. 

That great poet, John Milton, who seems to have 
known him well, assures us that the devil was the in- 
ventor of gunpowder. But, for my own part, were I in 
the humor to ascribe any particular invention to the au- 
thor of all evil, it should be that of distilling apple-brandy. 
We have scripture for it, that he began his capers with 
the apple ; then, why not go on with the brandy, which 
is but the fiery juice of the apple ? 

At any rate, I am pretty sure I shall hardly ever be 
able to think of it again with tolerable patience, as long 
as I live. For, it was that vile filthy poison that cut me 
out of one of the finest plumes that I ever expected to 
feather my cap with. 

The case stands briefly thus. I have told the reader, 
that Marion surprised and captured the celebrated tory 
partisan, Colonel Tynes, after killing the major part of 
his men. For safe keeping, he was sent into North Caro- 
lina ; whence he made his escape — got back into the 
forests of Black river, and collected a stout force to try 
his fortune a second time with Marion. 



190 



THE LIFE OF 



But, gettifig knowledge of the thing, Marion made 
one of his forced marches, fell upon him, unawares, and 
broke him up worse than before; killing and taking his 
whole party. Tynes was sent again to North Carolina ; 
whence he contrived again to make his escape ; and, re- 
turning to his old haunts, soon rallied a formidable force, 
for a third trial. This news was soon brought to General 
Marion, who thereupon, desired me to take forty of our 
best cavaliers, and see if we could not scourge Colonel 
Tynes once more. 

About sunset we mounted, and travelled hard all that 
night and until the middle of next day, when we halted 
for refreshment, at the house of one who was truly a 
"publican and sinner," for he was a great tory. 

Not knowing what secret intelligence the man might 
convey to the enemy, who were but fifteen miles off, I 
had him taken up and put under guard. We then got 
dinner, for which we honorably jDaid the poor woman his 
wife. And now comes my woful story. While, after 
dinner, I was busily employed in catechising my 
prisoner, how should the devil be employed, but in tempt- 
ing my men with the distilled juice of the apple .•* Hav- 
ing, by some ill luck, found out that there was a barrel 
of it in the house, they hastened to the poor landlady, 
who not only gave them a full dose for the present, but 
filled their bottles and canteens. 

As 'we pushed on, after dinner, in high spirits, for 
the enemy, I could not but remark how constantly the 
men were turning up their canteens. 

" What the plague have you got there, boys," said I 
" that you are so eternally drinking." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION'. 



I9X 



" Water, sir, water ; nothing but water \ " The 
rogues were drinking brandy all the time ; but, by way 
of whipping the devil round the stump, they called it 
water, that is, apple-water. 

Presently, finding, from their gayety and frolicsome- 
ness, what they had been after, I ordered a halt, and set 
myself to harangue them for such unsoldierly conduct. 
But I might as well have talked to a troop of drunken Ya- 
hoos. For some of them grinned in my face like mon- 
keys ; others looked as stupid as asses ; while the greater 
part chattered like magpies ; each boasted what a clever 
fellow he was, and what mighty things he could do, yet 
reeling all the time, and scarcely able to sit his horse. 
Indeed our guide, a fat jolter-headed fellow, fetching one 
of his heavy lee lurches, got so far beyond his perpendic- 
ular, that he could not right again ; but fell off, and 
came to the ground as helpless as a miller's bag. In 
short, among my whole corps there was but one sober 
man and that was Captain Neilson. 

It is not for language to express one thousandth part 
of my mortification and rage. To have made such an 
extraordinary march, and at the head of such choice 
fellows too ; to have come almost within sight of the 
enemy ; an enemy that I was eager to humble, and which 
would have yielded me so complete and glorious a vic- 
tory ; arrd yet to have lost all so shamefully : and thus 
like a fool to be sent back to my general, with my finger 
in my mouth, was, indeed, almost beyond endurance. 
But I was obliged to endure it. For, to have led my men 
into action, in that condition, would have been no better 
than murdering them. And to have kept them there 



192 



THE LIFE OF 



until they could have cooled off, was utterly out of the 
question. For there was not a family in that whole dis- 
trict that would, with their goodwill, have given us an 
hour's repose, or a morsel of bread. I therefore instantly 
ordered a retreat, which was made with all the noise and 
irregularity that might have been expected from a troop 
of drunkards, each of whom mistaking himself for com- 
mander-in-chief, gave orders according to his own mad 
humor ; and whooped and halloed at such a rate, that I 
verily believed, no bull-drivers ever made half the 
racket. 

That we should have obtained a most complete vic- 
tory, is very certain. For in a few days after this, we 
laid hands upon some of those very same tories, who 
stated, that in consequence of the noise which we made 
that night. Colonel Tynes despatched some of his cavalry 
up the road next morning, to see what was the matter. 
On coming to the spot, where I had vainly endeavored 
to form my drunken dogs, they found on the ground 
some of our plumes, which Colonel Tynes no sooner saw 
than he bawled out, " Marion ! Marion ! " then, leaping 
on their horse, off they went, whip and spur. 

" Well, where is Colonel Tynes } " said the general, 
as I entered his presence. This was the question which 
I had expected, and, indeed, blushed for the answer. But 
after hearing my doleful story, he replied with his usual 
philosophy : " Well, you did right to retreat ; but pray 
keep a careful eye on the apple-water next time." 

But to give the devil his due, I must confess there 
was one instance, in which I thought some good was 
done by brandy. This was in the case of Captain Snipes 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 193 

and his command, which by way of farce to my own 
tragedy, I beg leave to relate. 

Hearing of a tory camp-meeting not far distant, 
Marion despatched the brave Captain Snipes with a 
party to chastise them. They had scarcely got upon the 
tory cruising-ground, before, at a short turn in the road, 
they came full butt upon a large body of horsemen. 
Supposing them to be tories, Snipes instantly gave the 
word to charge ; himself leading the way with his usual 
impetuosity. The supposed tories, wheeling about, took 
to the sands, and went off, as hard as their horses could 
stave ; and thus, crack and crack, they had it for about 
two miles. 

Finding that Snipes was gaining upon them, the 
runagates began to lighten themselves of everything 
they could spare, and the road was presently strewed 
with blankets and knapsacks. One of them, it seems, 
carried a five gallon keg of brandy, which he could not 
think of parting with ; and being well mounted, he stood 
a good pull for the two first miles. But, finding he was 
dropping astern very fast, he slyly cut the straps of his 
mail pillion, and so let his keg, brandy and all, go by the 
run, over his horse's rump. Captain Snipes, who led 
the chase, found no difficulty in passing the keg : but 
his men coming up, instantly broached to, all standing ; 
for they could no more pass by a keg of brandy, than 
young monkeys could pass a basket of apples. 

Snipes cursed and raved like a madman, but all in 
vain : for they swore they must have a dram. While 
they were devising ways and m^ans how to get into the 
keg, the supposed tories, now a good distance aheac', 

18 



■'94 



TMR LIFE OF 



came to a halt, and their captain fortunately reflecting 
that their pursuers might not be enemies, sent back a 
flag. The result was the very joyful discovery, that the 
owners of the keg were good whigs coming to join Gen- 
eral Marion. Thus, to a moral certainty, this keg of 
brandy was made, of kind heaven, the happy means of 
preventing much bloodshed that day. 

Having given two cases of brandy, the one good, the 
other bad, I will now give a third, which the reader, if 
he pleases, may call indifferent, and which runs as fol- 
lows : — 

General Marion, still encamped in the neighborhood 
of Georgetown, ordered Captain Withers to take Ser- 
geant Macdonald, with four volunteers, and go on the 
enemy's lines to see what they were doing. On ap- 
proaching the town, they met an old tory ; one of your 
half-witted fellows, whom neither side regarded anymore 
than a Jew does a pig, and therefore suffered him to 
stroll when and where he pleased. The old man knew 
Captain Withers very well ; and as soon as he had got 
near enough to recollect him, he bawled out, " God^s 
mercy. Master Withers ! why, where are you going this 
course 1 " 

" Going, old daddy ! why to the devil, perhaps," re 
plied Withers. 

" Well faith ! that's like enough, captain," said the 
old man, " especially if you keep on this tack much 
longer. But before you go any further, suppose you 
take a pull with me of this," holding up a stout tickler 
of brandy, " maybe you may not get such good liquor 
where you are going." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



195 



" With all my heart, daddy," answered Withers, and 
twigg'd the tickler to the tune of a. deep dram : and 
passed it on to Macdonald, who also twigg'd it, '' and 
Tom twigg'd it, and Dick twigg'd it, and Harry twigg'd 
it, and so they all twigg'd it." In the mean time the 
the chat went round very briskly, and dram after dram 
brandy, until the tickler was drained to the bottom. 
And then the subtle spirit of the brandy, ascending into 
their noddles, worked such wonders, that they all began 
to feel themselves as big as field officers. Macdonald, 
for his part, with a face as red as a comet, reined up 
Selim, and drawing his claymore, began to pitch and 
prance about, cutting and slashing the empty air, as if 
he had a score of enemies before him, and ever and anon, 
roaring out, " Huzza, boys ! damme, let's charge ! " 

" Charge, boys ! charge ! " cried all the rest, reining 
up their horses, and flourishing their swords. 

" Where the plague are you going to charge ? " asked 

the oid tory. 

" Why, into Georgetown, right off," replied they. 

" Well, you had better have a care boys, how you 
charge there, for I'll be blamed if you do not get your- 
selves into business pretty quick : for the town is chock- 
ful of red-coats." 

*• Red-coats ! " one and all they roared out, " red- 
coats ! egad, that's just what we want. Charge, boys 1 
charge ! huzza for the red-coats, damme ! " 

Then clapping spurs to their steeds off went these 
six young madcaps, huzzaing and flourishing their 
swords and charging at full tilt into a British garrision 
town of three hundred men ! 



196 TFIE LIFE OF 

The enemy supposing that this was only our ad- 
vance and that General Marion with his whole force 
would presently be upon them, flew with all speed to 
their redoubt and there lay as snug as fleas in a sheep- 
skin. But all of them were not quite so lucky, for sev- 
eral were overtaken and cut down in the streets, among 
whom was a sergeant-major, a stout greasy fellow who 
strove hard to waddle away with his bacon ; but Selinr 
was too quicK: for him : and Macdonald, with a back- 
handed stroke of his claymore, sent his frightened ghost 
to join the majority. 

Having thus cleared the streets, our young troopers 
then called at the houses of their friends ; asked the 
news ; and drank their grog with great unconcern. 

The British, after having for sometime vainly looked 
for Marion, began to smell a trick, and in great wrath 
sallied forth for vengeance. Our adventurers then, in 
turn, were fain to scamper off as fast as they had made 
the others before, but with better success ; for though 
hundreds of muskets were fired after them, they got 
clear without receiving a scratch. 

But nothing ever so mortified the British, as did this 
mad frolic. " That half a dozen d — n — d young rebels," 
they said, '^ should thus dash in among us in open day- 
light, and fall to cutting and slashing the king's troops 
at this rate. y\ncl after all, to gallop away without the 
least harm in hair or hide. 'Tis high time to turn our 
bayonets into pitchforks, and go to foddering the 
cows." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, ^7 



CHAPTER XX. 

History of Captain Snipes— wanton destruction of his property by the tories 
—his own miraculous escape— admirable fidelity of his negro driver, 
Cud jo. 

Captain Snipes, who made such a figure in the 
wars of Marion, was a CaroUnian, of uncommon strength 
and courage ; both of which he exerted with great good- 
will, against the British and tories ; from principle part- 
ly, and partly from revenge. But though a choice 
soldier, he was no philosopher. He did not consider 
that to fight for duty, people must love it ; that to love 
it, they must understand it ; that to understand it, they 
must possess letters and religion : that the British and 
tories, poor fellows ! possessing neither of these, were 
not to have been expected to act any other than the sav- 
age and thievish part they did art ; and therefore, no 
more to be hated for it than the cats are for teazing the 
canary birds. 

But Captain Snipes had no turn for investigations of 
this sort. Knowledge, by intuition, was all that he 
cared for ; and having it, by instinct, that an "English- 
man ought never to fight against liberty," nor an 
*' American against his own country," he looked on 
them, to use his own phrase, as a " pack of d — n — d ras- 



1^8 ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ 

cals, whom it was doing God service to kill wherever 
he could find them." 

But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in very 
decently, till the enemy began" to let out, as they did, in 
plundering, burning, and hanging the poor whigs ; and 
then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his smothered hate 
broke forth, — 

** That hate which hurled to Pluto's gloomy relgo 
\ The souls of royal slaves untimely slain." 

Afraid, in fair fight, to meet that sword which had 
so often shivered their friends, they determined to take 
him as the Philistines did Samson, by surprise ; and 
having learned from their spies, that he was at home, 
they came upon him in force about midnight. His 
complete destruction, both of life and property, was 
their horrid aim. Happily, his driver, or black overseer 
overheard their approach ; and flying to his master with 

terror-struck looks, cried out " Run ! run ! massa, run ! 
de enemy 'pon you." 

Snipes, stark naked save his shirt, darted out as 

swift as his legs could carry him. 

" But where shall I run, Cudjo ? into the bam } " 

** Oh no massa! dey burn de barn, dat sure ting." 

" Well, where shall I run then .?" 

" Take de bush massa ! take de brier bush." 

Within fifty yards of the house was a clump of 

briers, so thickset, that one would have thought a 

frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself into 

it from hot pursuing dogs. But what will not fear enable 

a man to do ? Captain Snipes, big as he was, slipped 



OBN. FRANCIS MARION. 



199 



Into it with the facility of a weasel through the chinks 
of a chicken-coop ; but lost every thread and thrumb of 
his shirt ; and moreover, got his hide so scratched and 
torn by the briers, that the blood trickled from him fast 
as gravy from a fat green goose. 

Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place before the 
tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with their 
guns cocked, ready to shoot him. But oh, death to 
their hopes ! he was gone : the nest was there, and 
warm, but the bird was flown ! 

Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawled 
out: "You d — d rascal, where's your master.?" 

He told them he did not know. 

" You lie ! you black son of a b-t-h ! you lie." 

But he still asserted he knew nothing of his mastcx. 

Suspecting that he must be in some one or other of 
his buildings, they set fire to them all ; to his dwelling 
house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his negro 
cabins, watching all the while, with their muskets ready 
to shoot him as he ran out. From their nearness to his 
lurking place, the heat of his burning houses was so 
intense as to parch his skin into blisters. But it was 
death to stir, for he would certainly have been seen. 

Not having made the discovery they so much wished, 
they again seized Cudjo ; and, with their cocked pieces 
at his breast, swore if he did not instantly tell them 
where his master was, they would put him to death. 

He still declared he did not know where he was. 

Then they clapped a halter round his neck, and told 
him to "down on his knees, and say his prayers at once, 
for he had but two minutes to live 1 " 



200 THE LIFE OF 

He replied, that he " did not want to say his prayers 
now, for that he was no thief, and had always been a 
true slave to his master." 

This fine sentiment of the poor black was entirely 
lost on our malignant whites ; who, throwing the end of 
the halter over the limb of an oak, tucked him up as 
though he had been a mad dog. He hung till he was 
nearly dead ; when one of them called out, *' D — n him, 
cut him down, Til be bound he'll tell us now," Cudjo 
was accordingly cut down ; and, as soon as a little 
recovered, questioned again about his master. But he 
still declared he knew nothing of him. He was then 
hoisted a second time ; and a second time, when nearly 
dead, cut down and questioned as before : but still 
asserted his ignorance. The same inhuman part was 
acted on him a third time, but with no better success ; 
for the brave fellow still continued faithful to his master, 
who squatted and trembled in his place of torment, his 
brier bush, and saw and heard all that was passing. 

Persuaded now that Cudjo really knew nothing of his 
master, they gave up the shameful contest, and went off, 
leaving him half dead on the ground, but covered with 
glory. 

It is not easy to conceive a situation more severely 
torturing than this of Captain Snipes. His house, with 
all his furniture, his kitchen, his barn and rice-stacks, 
his stables, with several fine horses, and his negro 
houses, all wrapped in flames ; himself scorched and 
blistered with the furious heat, yet not daring to stir; 
his retreat well known to a poor slave ; and that slave 
alone, in the hands of an enraged banditti, with their 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 201 

muskets at his breast, imprecating the most horrid 
curses on themselves, if they did not instantly murder 
him unless he disclosed the secret ! What had he to 
expect of this poor slave, but that he would sink under 
the dreadful trial, and to save himself would sacrifice his 
master. But Snipes was safe. To discover his hiding- 
place, death stared his slave in the face, but, happily, 
his slave possessed for him that " love which is stronger 
than death." 

Captain Snipes and his man Cudjo had been brought 
up from childhood together ; and the father of our hero 
being a professor of Christianity, a Baptist preacher, 
whose main excellence is "to teach littl^ children to love 
one another," had taken pains to inspire his son with 
love towards his little slave. Nor did that love pass un- 
requited. For Cudjo used everyday to follow his young 
master to school, carrying his basket for him, prattling 
as he went; and smiling, would remind him of the com- 
ing Saturday, and what fine fishing and hunting they 
would have that day. Many a time had they wrestled, 
and slept side by side on the green; and thence 
springing up again with renovated strength, set out in 
full march for some favorite fruit tree, or some cooling 
pond, there to swim and gambol in the refreshing flood. 
And when the time of dinner came, Cudjo was not 
scornfully left to sigh and to gnaw his nails alone, but 
would play and sing about the door till his young master 
was done, and then he was sure to receive a good plate- 
ful for himself. Love, thus early ingrafted on his heart, 
grew up with daily increasing strength to manhood ; 
when Snipes, by the death of his father, became master 



S02 "^^ LIFM OP 

of the estate, made Cud jo his driver or overseer, and 
thus riveted on his honest bosom that sacred friend- 
ship which, as we have seen, enabled him to triu mph in 
one of the severest trials that human nature was ever 
put to. 

The above is a solemn fact, and the wise will lay it 
to heart. 



QMN. FRANCIS MARION, 103 



CHAPTER XXr. 

Marion pursues Major Muckleworth — fine anecdote of the major — Mar- 
ion's generosity to hint. 

Learning that a detachment of the British were 
marching up Black River towards Statesburgh and Cam- 
den, General Marion gave orders to chase ; which was 
conducted, as usual, with such rapidity, that about sunset 
of the second day we came up with them. Our advance, 
composed of choice fellows, instantly began to skirmish 
with the enemy, of whom they killed eight or nine. A 
few on both sides, rather badly wounded, were made 
prisoners. Marion, coming up, gave orders to call off 
the troops, meaning to give the enemy a serious brush 
in the morning. But of this gratification they entirely 
disappointed us, by striking their tents and pushing off 
in silence before day. 

Soon as light returned, and the retreat of the British 
was announced, we renewed the pursuit ; and by late 
breakfast-time, reached the house at which the enemy 
had refreshed themselves. This house belonged to a 
poor, but excellent old lady, well known to Marion. 

The general was hardly alighted from his horse, be- 
fore the old lady had him by the hand, declaring how 
happy she had always been to see him, " but now," con- 
tinued she, " if I an't right down sorry to see you, then 
rU be hanged." 



204 THE LIFE OF 

Marion with a look of surprise, asked her why she 
was sorry to see him now. 

" Oh ! don't I know you too well, general ? don't I 
know that old Scratch himself can't keep you from fight- 
ing ? And now yo u are hurrying along here, with all 
your men, only to fight the British. An'titso now, 
general?" 

Marion told her, that that was indeed his business. 

" Well, dear me now ! and did I not tell you so ? But 
pray now, my dear General Marion, let me beg of you, 
don't you do any harm to that dear, good man, that Major 
Muckleworth, who went from here a little while ago : 
for oh ! he's the sweetest-spoken, mildest-looking, noblest- 
spirited Englishman I ever saw in all my born days. As 
to the Rawdon and Tarleton, - God's curse upon the 
thieves and blackguards ! I would not care if you could 
kill a thousand of them. But that good Major Muckle- 
worth ! indeed, indeed now, General, you must not hurt 
a hair of his head, for it would be such a crying sin." 

Marion asked her in what respects was he better 
than other British officers. 

" Better than other British officers ! " replied the old 
lady. " Lord bless your dear soul. General Marion ! Well, 
come along, come along v/ith me, and I'll let you see." 

We followed the old lady, who, tripping along, nim- 
ble as a girl, conducted us into a clean looking cabin, 
wherein sat a middle-aged man very genteelly dressed, 
and several wounded persons lying before him, on pal- 
lets on the floor. Marion saluted the stranger, who in- 
formed us that he was "a surgeon in the service of his 
Britannic majesty, and left by Major Muckleworth to 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 205 

take care of the wounded ; of whom, sir, I believe that 
nearly one half are your own men." 

Here the old lady's face brightened up towards 
Marion ; and giving him a very significant look, she 
said, " Ah ah, general ! didn't I tell you so ? " 

Then diving her withered hand in her pocket, she 
scooped up a shining parcel of English guineas, and 
exultingly cried out, " See there, general ! see there's 
a sight for you ? and every penny of it given me by 
that dear good gentleman, Major Muckleworth ; every 
penny of it, sir. Yes, and if you will but believe me, 
general, when I and my daughters were getting break- 
fast for him and his people, if he didn't come here him- 
self with his sergeants, and had this place swept out all 
so sweet and clean for them poor sick people ; and, with 
his own dear hands too helped that gentleman there to 
dress and doctor the poor things that he did. 

" And then besides all that, general, he was such a 
sweet-spoken gentleman ! for when I asked him how his 
men, came to be hurt so, he did not like that beast Tarle- 
ton turn black and blue in the face, and fall to cursing the 
d — d rebels. Oh no ! not he indeed. But he said with 
a smile, * We got them wounded last night, madam, in a 
little brush with your brave countryman. General Marion.' 

" Now only think of that, general ! And besides, 
when he was going away, what do you think he did } 
Why, sir, he sent for me and said, ' Well, my good 
madam, and what shall I pay you for all the trouble we 
have given you, and also for taking care of the doctor 
I am going to leave with you, and the sick people, who 
may be on your hands for a fortnight yet ? * 



2o6 THE LIFE OP 

** I told him it was no business of mine to fix a price. 

" He seemed surprised, and asked me what I meant 
by that. 

'* I answered that I was now all one as his prisoner, 
and prisoners had nothing they could call their own. 

" ^ My king, madam,' said he, ' does not make war 
against widows.' 

" I told him I wished to God all his countrymen had 
remembered that ; it would have saved the hunger and 
nakedness, and cries and tears of many a poor widow 
and orphan. At this he seemed mightily hurt^ 

*' I then told him that many of the British officers, 
after eaten and drinking all that they wanted, for them- 
selves and people, and horses, instead of turning round 
to pay, as he had done, had turned in to plunder, and 
then set fire to the houses, not leaving the widows and 
children a cover over their heads, nor a bit of bread for 
their mouths, nor a stitch of clothes for their backs. 

"' My God ! ' said he, * and is this the way that my 
countrymen have come here to carry on war ! Well 
madam, (so he went on) my king does not know any 
thing of this, nor does the English nation, I am sure. 
If they did, they would certainly call those officers to 
account. Such men will ruin our cause. For the word 
of God assures uSj that his ear is always open to the cry 
of the widow and orphan ; and believe me, madam, I 
dread their cry more than I do the shouts of an enemy's 
army. However, madam, (continued he,) I have not a 
moment to lose, for I am sure General Marion is pursu- 
ing me as hard as he can, so let me know what I owe 
you.* 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 207 

" I told him again, I made no charge ; but since he 
was so good as to insist on giving me something, I 
begged to leave the matter entirely to himself. Upon 
which, after a moment's study, he looked at me and 
said, * Well, madam, suppose we say sixpence sterling 
apiece, man and horse, all around, will that do ? ' I re- 
plied that was too much, a great deal too much, for such 
a poor breakfast as I had given him and his men. ' Not 
a penny too much, madam,' said he, * live and let live is 
the royal law, madam, and here's your money.' With 
that he put all these guineas here, into my hand ! and 
said moreover, that if the doctor and sick people should 
be longer with me, and give me more trouble and cost 
than we had counted on, then I must send a note to him, 
at such a house in Charleston, and he would send me 
the money. And now, general, would it not be a burn- 
ing shame to go kill such a dear good gentleman as 

that .? " 

Marion listened with delight to the old lady's history 

of this amiable officer ; but on her leaving him to hasten 
our breakfast, he looked very pensive, and at a loss what 
to do. However, as soon as the troops were refreshed* 
he ordered my brother. Colonel H. Horry, who led the 
advance, to remount, and push after the enemy with all 
speed. We followed close in the rear. For an hour the 
general did not open his mouth, but rode on like one ab- 
sorbed in thought. At length heaving a deep sigh, he 
said, " Well, I suppose I feel now very much as I should 
feel, were I in pursuit of a brother to kill him." 

About three o'clock our advance came up with the 



2o8 THE LIFE OF 

enemy, near the wealthy and hospitable Captain John 
Singleton's mills, where the firing instantly commenced, 
and was spiritedly returned by the British, still retreat- 
ing. Our marksmen presently stopped one of Muckle- 
worth's captains, and several of his men who lay dead 
on the ground, at the very spot where we happened to 
join the advance. The sight of these poor fellows lying 
in their blood, gave the general's wavering mind the cast- 
ing vote in favor of generosity ; for he immediately cried 
out, " call off the troops ! call off the troops ! " Then 
turning to his aid, he said, " I cannot stand it any longer ; 
we owe yon Englishmen to our injured country; but 
there is an angel that guards them. Ten righteous Lots 
would have saved Sodom. One generous Muckleworth 
shall save this handful. Let us turn and fight other 
enemies." 

The general's orders quickly passed on to the troops 
to cease firing. And to their credit be it spoken, they 
never, I believe, obeyed his orders with more alacrity 
than on this occasion. Indeed I heard many of them 
say, afterwards, that Major Muckleworth's generosity to 
their wounded comrades and to the poor widow, had so 
won their hearts to him, that they had none left where- 
with to fight against him ; and they said also, that, for 
their parts, they had rather kill a thousand such savages 
as Rawdon and Tarleton, than hurt a hair of Major 
Muckleworth's head. 

From the effect produced on our troops, by this 
amiable oflficer's conduct, I have often been led to think 
favorably of a saying common with Marion, viz., had the 



';F.V. FRANCIS MARION. 



209 



British officers but acted as became a wise and magnani- 
mous enemy, they n ight easily have recovered the re 
volted colon s. 

Never did the pulse of love towards a parent state 
beat stronger in human bosoms, .than in those of the 
CaroHnians towards Britain ► We looked on her as in 
deed our mother, and on her children as our brothers. 
And ah ! had their government but treated us with cor- 
respondent kindness, Carolina would have been with 
them to a man. Had they said to the people, as they 
might easily have done (for there was a time, and a long, 
long time too, when the whole state was entirely at 
their feet,) had they then said to us, "We are far richer, 
far stronger, than you ; we can easily burn your houses, 
take your provisions, carry off your cattle, and 
sweep your country with the besom of destruction ; but 
we abhor the idea. Your houses, your women, your 
children, are all sacred in our eyes ; and even of your 
goods we will touch nothing without giving you a rea- 
sonable price." Had they but said this, Carolina would, 
to a certainty, have been divorced from Congress, and 
rewedded to Britain. 

We may lay what emphasis we please on the term 
countrymen, countrymen ! but after all, as Christ says» 
"he is our countryman who showeth mercy unto us." 

A British officer, a Major Muckleworth, for exam- 
ple, calls at my plantation, and takes my fine horses and 
fat beeves, my pigs, my poultry and grain ; but at part- 
ing, launches out for me a fistful of yellow boys ! On 
the other hand, an American officer calls and sweeps 
me of everything, and then lugs out a bundle of conti- 

14 



2IO THE LIFE OF 

nental proc ! such trash, that hardly a cow would give si 
corn shock for a horse load of it. 

The Englishman leaves me richer than he found 
me, and abler to educate and provide for my children : 
the American leaves me and my family half ruined. 
Now I wish to know where, in such a selfish world as 
this, where is there a man in a million, but would take 
part with the generous Englishman, and fight for him ? 

This was the theory of Marion ; and it was the prac- 
tice of Muckleworth, whom it certainly saved to the 
British ; and would, if universal, have saved Carolina 
and Georgia to them too ; and perhaps, all America. 
But so little idea had they of this mode of conciliating 
to conquer, that when the good Major Muckleworth re- 
turned to Charleston, he was hooted at by the British 
officers, who said he might do well enough for a chap- 
lain, or a methodist preacher, for what they knew, but 
they'd be d — n — d if he were fit to be a British major. 

The truth is, such divine philosophy was too refined 
for such coarse and vulgar characters, as Cornwallis, 
Rawdon, Tarleton, Balfour, and Weymies ; monsters 
who disgraced the brave and generous nation they rep- 
resented, and completely damned the cause they were 
sent to save. But what better was to have been expected 
of those, who, from early life, if tradition say true, dis- 
covered a total dislike to the ennobling pleasures of 
literature and devotion, but a boundless passion for the 
brutalizing sports of the bear-garden and cockpit ? 
Bull-baiters, cock-fighters, and dog-worriers, turned 
officers, had no idea of conquering the Americans, but 
by " cutting their throats or knocking out their brains ; " 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 311 

or as the tender-hearted Comwallis commanded, by 
" hanging them, and taking away, or destroying their 
goods." 

Now Satan himself could have counselled my lord 
better than that ; as any man may see, who will but 
open his bible and turn to the book of Job, chapter, 
one, verse six, and so on. There Moses informs, that 
when Satan, whose effrontery is up to anything, pre- 
sented himself at the grand levee, the Almighty very 
civilly asked him, (now mind that, saints, in your speech 
to poor sinners) the Almighty, I say, very civilly asked 
him " where he had been of late." 

To this, his royal highness, the brimstone king, re- 
plied, that he had been only taking a turn or two " up 
and down the earth." 

The divine voice again interrogated : *' Hast thou 
considered my servant Job t an excellent man, is he not ; 
one who feareth God and escheweth evil } " 

" Job's well enough," replied Satan, rather pertly, 
" but Where's the wonder of all that ? You have done 
great things for the fellow ; you have planted a hedge 
around him, and around all that he hath on every side. 
You have blessed the works of his hands, and his sub- 
stance is increased in the land ; and if, after all this, he 
cannot afford you a little gratitude, he must be a poor 
devil indeed. But put forth thy hand now and touch all 
that he hath, and he'll curse thee to thy face." 

This was the devil's logic as to Job : but the British 
general had not the wit to reason in that style towards 
the Americans. For my Lord Cornwallis said unto 
my Lord Rawdon ; and ray Lord Rawdon said unto 



212 THE LIFE OF 

my would-be lord, Colonel Tarleton ; and Colonel Tarle- 
ton said unto Major Weymies ; and Major Weymies 
said unto Will. Cunningham, and unto the British sol- 
diers with their tory negro allies ; " put forth your hands, 
boys, and burn, and plunder the d — n — d rebels : and in- 
stead of cursing you to your face, they will fall down 
and kiss your feet." 

" Experience," says Doctor Franklin, " is a dear 
school ; but fools will learn in no other, and hardly in 
that." And what right had Lord North to expect suc- 
cess in America, when for officers he sent such fools 
as would take no lesson either from God or devil. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. aij 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Colonel Watson attempts to surprise Marion — is out-generaled, and after 
much loss driven back to Georgetown. 

In consequence of his incessant attacks on the 
British and tories, Marion was, I believe, heartily hated 
by them, as ever Samson was by the Philistines, or 
George Whitefield by the devil. Numerous were the 
attempts made by their best officers to surprise him ; 
but such was his own vigilance and the fidelity of his 
whig friends, that he seldom failed to get the first blow 
at them, and to take their unwary feet in the same evil 
net which they had spread for him. 

His method to anticipate the meditated malice of 
his enemies, is well worthy of notice. He always had 
in his service a parcel of active young men, generally 
selected from the best whig families, and of tried courage 
and fidelity. These, mounted on the swiftest horses, he 
would station in the neighborhood of those places 
where the British and tories were embodied in force, as 
Camden, Georgetown, etc. with instructions to leave no 
stratagem untried to find out the intended movements of 
the enemy. Instantly as this information was obtained, 
( whether by climbing tall trees that overlooked the gar- 
risons ; or from friends acting as market-people ) they 
were to mount and push off at full speed to the nearest 



2X4 



THE LIFE OF 



of a chain of posts established at short and convenient 
distances, with fleet horses ready saddled and bridled, to 
bear the intelligence with equal speed, the first to the 
second, the second to the third, and so on. In this ex- 
peditious method, as by a telegraph, Marion was pres- 
ently notified of the designs of the enemy. Of the 
exceeding importance of such a plan, we had a very 
striking proof at this time. Exasperated against Marion, 
for the infinite harm he did the royal cause in Carolina, 
the British general, in Camden, determined to surprise 
him at his old place of retreat, Snow's Island ; and thus 
destroy or break him up completely. To this end he 
despatched a couple of favorite officers. Colonels Watson 
and Doyle, with a heavy force, both cavalry and infantry, 
to seize the lower bridge on Black river and thereby 
effectually prevent our escape. But the vigilance and 
activity of his scouts frustrated this well-concerted plan 
entirely. Getting early notice of this manoeuvre by 
captain, now General Canty, Marion instantly started 
his troops, composed chiefly of mounted riflemen and 
light dragoons and pushed hard forth? :^.w^ ^oint. By 
taking a nearer cut, we had the good fortune to gain the 
bridge before the enemy ; and having destroyed it as soon 
as we crossed, we concealed ourselves in the dark swamp, 
anxiously waiting their arrival. In a short time, they 
came in full view on the opposite hill, and there encamped. 
Presently, unapprehensive of danger, for they saw 
nothing of us, two of their men came down for water to 
the river. Unable to resist such a temptation, two of 
our noted marksmen instantly drew their sights and 
let fly. The two Englishmen fell ; one of them was 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2ie 

killed dead ; the other badly wounded, and so frightened, 
that he bellowed like a bull-calf for help. Several of his 
gallant countrymen ran to his assistance, but they were 
shot down as fast as they got to him. 

The next morning Colonel Watson sent a flag over 
to Marion, whom he charged with carrying on war in a 
manner entirely different from all civilized nations. 
"Why sir," said he to Marion, "you must certainly 
command a horde of savages, who delight in nothing but 
murder. I can't cross a swamp or a bridge,, but I am 
waylaid and shot at as if I were a mad dog. Even my 
sentries are fired at and killed on their posts. Why, 
my God, sir ! this is not the way that Christians ought 
to fight ! '' 

To this Marion replied, that " he was sorry to be 
obliged to say, that from what he had known of them, 
the British officers were the last men on earth who had 
any right to preach about honor and humanity. That 
for men to come three thousand miles to plunder and 
hang an innocent people, and then to tell that people 
how they ought to fight, betrayed an ignorance and im- 
pudence which he fain would hope had no parallel in 
the history of man. That for his part, he always be- 
lieved, and still did believe that he should be doing God 
and his country good service to surprise and kill such 
men, while they continued this diabolical warfare, as he 
would the wolves and panthers of the forest." 

Thus ended the correspondence for that time. 

While things remained in this state between the 
hostile parties, Macdonald, as usual, was employing 
himself in a close and bold reconnoitre of tbc enemy's 



2i6 THE LIFE OF 

camp. Having found out the situation of their sentries, 
and the times of relieving them, he climbed up into a 
bushy tree, and thence, with a musket loaded with pistol 
bullets, cracked away at their guard as they passed by ; 
of whom he killed one man, and badly wounded the- 
lieutenant, whose name was Torquano ; then sliding 
down the tree, he mounted his swift-footed Selim, and 
made his escape. 

The next morning Colonel Watson sent another flag 
to Marion, requesting that he would grant a passport to 
his Lieutenant Torquano, who was badly wounded, and 
wished to be carried to Charleston. On receiving the 
flag, which happened while I was by him, Marion turned 
to me, and with a smile said, " Well, this note of Colonel 
Watson looks a little as if he were coming to his senses. 
But who is Lieutenant Torquano } " 

I replied that he was a young Englishman, who had 
been quartered in Charleston, at the house of that good 
whig lady, Mrs. Brainford and her daughters, whom he 
had treated very politely, and often protected from in- 
sults, 

" Well," said he, " if that be Lieutenant Torquano, 
he must be a very clever fellow ; and shall certainly 
have a passport to Charleston, or even to Paradise if I 
had the keys of St. Peter." 

On repassing Black river in haste, Macdonald had 
left his clothes behind him at a poor woman's house, 
where the enemy seized them. By the return of the 
flag just mentioned, he sent word to Colonel Watson, 
that if he did not immediately send back his clothes, he 
would kill eight of his men to pay for them. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 21*1 

Several of Watson's officers who were present when 
the message was delivered, advised him by all means to 
return his clothes, for that they knew him to be a most 
desperate fellow, one who would stop at nothing he set his 
head upon ; witness his late daring act of climbing like 
a cougar, into a tree, to kill his passing enemies. Watson 
sent him back his wallet of clothes. 

Soon after this, the enemy decamped silently in the 
night, and took the road towards Santee. On the re- 
turn of day announcing their flight, Marion ordered m : 
to take the mounted riflemen, thirty in number, with 
fifty horse, and pursue and harass the enemy as much 
as possible, till he could come up with the infantry. 

About night I approached their encampment, and 
halted in a neighboring swamp ; whence I continued to 
send out small parties, frequently relieved, with orders 
to pop away at their sentinels, and keep them alarmed 
and under arms all night. At daybreak they pushed 
hard for the sandpit bridge. We followed close in the 
rear, constantly firing on them from every thicket and 
swamp ; and often, in spite of their field-pieces, making 
false charges. Never did I see a body of infantry ply 
their legs so briskly. The rogues were constantly in a 
dog trot, except when they occasionally halted to give 
us a blast, which they did from their whole line. But 
though their bullets made a confounded whizzing and 
clatter among the branches over our heads, yet thank 
God they did no harm, save that of scratching some 
three or four of us. 

On coming within a few miles of it, we made a rapid 
push for the bridge, which we quickly rendered impass- 



3iS THE LIFE OF 

able, by throwing ojff the plank and sleepers. Then 
having posted my riflemen in the thick woods, within 
fifty yards of the ford, under command of Lieutenant 
Scott, I drew up my cavalry close in the rear, and wait- 
ed impatiently for the enemy, hoping to give a hand- 
some Bunker's Hill account of them. 

The enemy were presently in sight, and formed in 
close column, began to push through the fording place, 
though full waist deep. My heart now throbbed with 
amxiety ; looking every moment for a stream of fire to 
burst upon the British, spreading destruction through 
their ranks. 

But, to my infinite mortification, no lightnings 
burs ted forth ; no thunders roared ; no enemy fell. As, 
half choked with grief and rage, I looked around for the 
cause, behold ! my brave Lieutenant Scott, at the head 
of the riflemen, came stooping along with his gun in his 
hand, and the black marks of shame and cowardice on 
his sheepish face. " Infamous poltroon," said I, shak- 
ing my sword over his head, " where is that hetacomb 
of robbers and murderers due to the vengeance of your 
injured country } " 

He began to stammer out some apology, which 1 
quickly suppressed, by ordering him out of my sight. 
It is worthy of remark, that his men, instead of apolo- 
gising for him, called him a coward to his face, and de- 
clared that it was he who had restrained them by telling 
them they were flanked by the enemy, who would as- 
suredly cut them to pieces if they fired a shot. 

As the advance of the British were thus undisturb- 
edly passinp: (^v-^ a heavy firing was suddenly heard in 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 



219 



the rear. It was Marion; who, having come up with 
the enemy, had attacked him with great fury. The 
British did not halt, but continued a running fight 
through the woods till they gained the open fields ; 
where, by means of their artillery, they kept us at a dis- 
tance. In this rencontre, Watson had his horse killed 
under him, and left about twenty of his men dead on the 
ground. His wounded filled several wagons. 

He did not halt a moment, but pushed hard for 
Georgetown ; and late at night encamped on the planta 
tion of Mr. Trapier, to whom he told a dreadful story 
about Marion and his damned rebels, who would not, as 
he said, sleep and fight like gentlemen, but, like savages, 
were eternally firing and whooping around him by night ; 
and by day, waylaying and popping at him from behind 
every tree he went by. 

As it was too late to pursue the enemy, Marion en- 
camped for the night near the field of battle, and next 
morning marched for his old post. Snow's Island, where 
he allowed us a few days of welcome repose. 



220 THE UFE OP 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Patriotism of Mrs. Jenkins — Colonel Watson, Colonel Doyle, 
and the tones, make alarming advances upon General Mar- 
ion — his men begin to desert him— Horry turns orator and 
harangues the troops — they repeat their assurances of pa- 
triotism and attachment to Marion — he dashes out again 
upon the enemy — prospects brighten — and the good old cause 
begins to look up again. 

It was not for the British and Marion to lie long 
at rest in the same neighborhood. After a short 

repose, Colonel Watson, with a stout force of regulars 
and tories, made an inroad upon Pedee ; which was 
no sooner known in our camp, than Marion pushed 
after him. We presently struck their trail ; and after 
a handsome day's run, pitched our tents near the 
house of the excellent Widow Jenkins, and on the very 
spot which the British had left in the morning. Col- 
onel Watson, it seems, had taken his quarters that 
night in her house : and learning that she had three 
sons with Marion, all active young men, he sent for 
her after supper, and desired her to sit down and take 
a glass of wine with him. To his request, a good 
old lady of taste and manners could have no objec- 
tion : so waiting upon the colonel, and taking a chair 
which he handed her, she sat down and emptied her 
glass to his health. He then commenced the following 
conversation with her, — 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 221 

"So, madam, they tell me you have several sons 
in General Marion's camp ; I hope it is not true.'^ 

She said it was very true, and was only sorry that 
it was not a thousand times truer. 

" A thousand times truer, madam ! " replied he with 
great surprise, " pray what can be your meaning in 
that ? " 

" Why, sir, I am only sorry that in place of three 
I have not three thousand sons with General Marion." 

'' Aye indeed ! well then madam, begging your 
pardon, you had better send for them immediately 
to come in and join his majesty's troops under my 
command : for as they are rebels now, in arms against 
their king, should they be taken they will be hung as 
sure as ever they were born." 

" Why, sir," said the old lady, " you are very con- 
siderate of my sons ; for which at any rate T thank 
you. But, as you have begged my pardon for giving 
me this advice, I must beg yours for not taking it. 
My sons, sir, are of age, and must and will act for 
themselves. And as to their being in a state of re- 
bellion against their king, I must take the liberty, sir, 
to deny that." 

" What, madam ! " replied he, " not in rebellion 
against their king ? shooting at and killing his majes- 
ty's subjects like wolves 1 don't you call that rebellion 
against their king, madam } " 

"No, sir," answered she: "they are only doing 
their duty, as God and nature commanded them, sir." 

" The d — 1 they are madam ! " 

" Yes, sir," continued she, " and what you and 



223 THE LIFR OF 

every man in England would glory to do against the . 
king, were he to dare to tax you contrary to your 
own consent, and the constitution of the realm. 'Tis 
the king, sir, who is in rebellion against my sons, and 
not they against him. And could right prevail 
against might, he would as certainly lose his head, 
as ever King Charles the First did." 

Colonel Watson could hardly keep his chair under 
the smart of this speech : but thinking it would never 
do for a British colonel to be rude to a lady, he filled 
her glass, and saying, ^* he'd be d — n — d if she were 
not a very plain-spoken woman at any rate," insisted 
she would drink a toast with him for all that. 

She replied she had no objection. 

Then filling the glasses round, he looked at her 
with a constrained smile, and said, " Well, madam, 
here's George the Third." 

" With all my heart, sir ! " and turned off her bumper 
with a good grace. 

After a decent interval of sprightly conversation, he 
called on the widow for a toast ; who smartly retorted, 
" Well, sir, here's George Washington ! " At which he 
darkened a little, but drank it off with an officer-like 
politeness. 

The next morning early, we left the good Mrs. 
Jenkins ; and burning with impatience to give Watson 
another race, we drove on Jehu-like. 

We encamped that night almost within sight of the 
enemy's fires : but found them too much on the alert 
for surprise. We kept however, a good look out, and 
learning next morning that a roosting party were 



eEN. FFANCIS MARION. 



«23 



out, Marion detached my brother Colonel Horry, with 
some choice cavaliers, to attack them ; which he 
did with such spirit that at the first onset he 
killed nine, and made the balance, sixteen, all prisoners. 
The rogues were so overloaded with plunder, that for 
their lives they could not regain their camp, though in 
full view of it when they charged. This brilliant stroke 
of my brother, threw the enemy's camp into the utmost 
hurry and uproar; and their dragoons were quickly 
mounted, dashing out to rescue their comrades ; but in 
vain, for my brother brought them all off in safety to 
our camp. 

Our strength at this time was far inferior to that of 
the enemy. But it soon became alarmingly reduced. 
For learning that, besides this heavy force under Watson, 
there was another from Camden under Colonel Doyle, 
and also of mounted tories from Pedee, all in full march 
against us, our men took a panic and began to desert, and 
those who stayed behind looked very serious, and talked as 
if certain ruin both to themselves and families would fol- 
low from their continuing to fight in so hopeless a 
cause. 

In answer to these desponding gentlemen, I replied 
that I was ashamed and grieved too, to hear them talk at 
that rate. 

" Our prospects," said I, " gentlemen, are to be sure 
dark, very dark; yet thank God, they are not desperate. 
We have often before now seen as heavy clouds hanging 
over us ; and yet with heaven's blessing on our arms, 
those clouds have been dispersed, and golden days re- 
stored. And who knows but we may shortly see it so 



224 



THE LIFE OF 



again ? I am sure we have good reason to expect it ; and 
also to hope that God will assist us who are only fighting 
to make ourselves free and happy, according to his own 
most blessed will. And will it not be a most sweet cordial 
to your spirits as long as you live, to think that, in such 
trying times as these, you stood up for your country, 
and fought and won for yourselves and children all the 
blessings of liberty. 

" And, besides," said I, " do not the tories, who are 
more than half the authors of your misfortunes, possess 
large estates } And have you not arms in your hands, 
wherewith to pay yourselves out of their ill-saved treas- 
ures } " 

This speech seemed to raise their spirits a good deal. 

I then went to see the general, who with his hands 
behind him, was walking backwards and forwards in 
front of his tent, meditating, no doubt, on the desertion 
of his men ; whose numbers, from more than two hun- 
dred, were now reduced to less than seventy. 

" General Marion," said I, " I am sorry to tell you that 
our men are now so few ; especially since, according to 
report, we shall soon want so many." 

" Why," replied he, " that is the very thing I have 
been grieving at ; but it will signify nothing for us to 
stand here sighing and croaking ; so pray go and order 
a muster of the men, that I may say a few words to 
them before they all run off and leave me." 

Soon as the troops were all paraded around the door 
of his tent, he stepped upon the trunk of a fallen pine, 
and in his plain but impressive manner, addressed us 
nearly as follows : — 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 225 

" Gentlemen and fellow-soldiers : 

" It is not for words to express what I feel when I 
look around upon your diminished numbers. Yesterday 
I commanded two hundred men ; men whom I gloried in, 
and who I fondly thought, would have followed me through 
my dangers for their country. And, now, when their 
country most needs their services, they are nearly all 
gone ! And even those of you who remain, are, if re- 
port be true, quite out of heart ; and talk, that you and 
your families must be ruined if you resist any longer ! 
But, my friends, if we shall be ruined for bravely resist- 
ing our tyrants, what will be done to us if we tamely 
lie down and submit to them ? In that event, what can 
we expect but to see our own eternal disgrace, and the 
widespread ruin of our country ; when our bravest and 
best citizens shall be hung up like dogs, and their prop- 
erty confiscated to enrich those villains who deserted 
their country, and joined her enemies ; when Cornwallis, 
Rawdon and Tarleton, after so long plundering and 
murdering your friends, shall, in reward of such services, 
be set over you as your governors and lord-lieutenants, 
with princely salaries out of your labors ; when foreign 
bishops and their hireling clergy shall be poured upon 
you like hosts of consecrated locusts, consuming the 
tithes and fat of the land ; when British princes, and 
nobles, and judges, shall swarm over your devoted coun- 
try, thick as eagles over a new-fallen care ass ; when an 
insatiate king, looking on your country as his plantation, 
and on your children as his slaves, shall take away your 
su^' stance, every year, for his pomps and pleasures ; and, 

f' keep you under forever, shall fill your land with 

io 



226 THE LIFE OF 

armies ; and when those armies, viewing you with malig- 
nant eyes, shall constantly be insulting you as conquered 
rebels ; and under pretence of discovering among you 
the seeds of another rebellion, shall be perpetually 
harassing and giving up to military execution the best 
and worthiest of your fellow-citizens ? 

" Now my brave brethren in arms, is there a man 
among you, who can bear the thought of living to see his 
dear country and friends in so degraded and wretched a 
state as this ? If there be, then let that man leave me 
and retire to his home. I ask not his aid. But, thanks 
to God, I have no fears about you ; judging by your looks, 
I feel that there is no such man among us. For my 
own part I look upon such a state of things as a thou- 
sand times worse than death. And God is my judge 
this day, that if I could die a thousand deaths, most 
gladly would I die them all, rather than live to see my 
dear country in such a state of degradation and wretch- 
edness.'* 

In reply to this speech of our honored general, we 
told him, in brief, it was on account of his noble sen- 
timents we had always so highly esteemed him ; that 
it was on account of these we had already suffered so 
much, and were ready to suffer more ; and that rather 
than see our country in that wretched state which he 
had so feelingly described, and which, with him, we 
firmly believed would be the case if the British were to 
get the upper hand, we had made up our minds to fight 
by his side to a glorious death. 

I never saw such a change on the face of a human 
being, as then took place on that of Marion. His eyes 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 227 

sparkled with pleasure, while in transport he exclaimed, 
" Well, now Colonel Doyle, look sharp, for you shall 
presently feel the edge of our swords." 

Soon as night came on we mounted, and took the 
swamps of Lynche's creek, though swimming deep, and 
after a long time spent in plunging and splashing 
through the dark floods, we got over, at least about two- 
thirds of us. The rest, driven down by the force of the 
current, were cast ashore on hills and high banks, which 
by the freshet were converted into islands ; and there 
they continued whooping and hallooing to each other all 
night. When the welcome light returned, they plunged 
again into the furious stream, and though swept down 
a good way by the force of the current, arrived safely 
on our side where we had prepared some large fires to 
dry their clothes and muskets, and plenty of roasted 
roots and Indian cakes for breakfast. 

As God was pleased to have it, none of us lost our 
lives, though many did their great coats, blankets, and 
saddles, and some few their pieces. As to myself, I 
must needs say, I was never so near the other world in 
my life. For, as we were borne along down the stream 
in the dark, my horse and I were carried under the 
limb of a tree hung thick with wild vines, which soon 
caught me by the head like Absalom, and there held me 
fast, dangling in the furious flood, while my horse was 
swept from under me. I hallooed for some time like a 
lusty fellow, without getting any answer, which made 
me begin to think my chance was bad. And, God for- 
give me for it ! I could not help thinking it a sad thing, 
that after so many fierce frays and hard knocks with 



228 THE LIFE OF 

the British and tories, I should come at last to be 
ehoked like a blind puppy, in this dirty swamp : but 
God be praised for his good angel, who had brought me 
through six dangers, and now took me out of the 
seventh. For, as I was near giving out, a bold young 
fellow of the company overheard me bawling, and hav- 
ing the advantage of a stout horse dashed in and took 
me safely off. 

I was afraid at first that my horse was drowned ; 
but sagaciously following the rest of the horses, he 
made his way good, but lost my saddle, great-coat, and 
clothes. But what grieved me most of all was the loss 
of my holsters, with a pair of elegant silver-mounted 
pistols, a present from Macdonald, and which he had 
taken from a British officer whom he killed near George- 
town. 

Soon as our fire-arms were dried, and ourselves and 
horses were refreshed, we mounted and rode hard all 
that day, to surprise Colonel Doyle. About midnight 
we had approached the house of a good whig, who told 
us that Doyle had been there, but that v/arned by an ex- 
press from Camden, he had started in great haste, and 
was certainly by that time far beyond our reach. We 
were much puzzled in our minds for the meaning of this 
precipitate retreat of Colonel Doyle ; however, after one 
day of welcome rest and high cheer, we faced about, 
fully determined, notwithstanding our inferiority of 
force, once more to try our fortune with Colonel Wat- 
son. But in reaching the ground where we had left him 
encamped, we got advice that he too, with all his troops 
was gone off, at a tangent, as hard as he could drive. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 229 

While we were wondering what could have possessed 
the British to scamper thus in every direction, Captain 
Conyers, of Lee's legion, hove in sight, with the wel- 
come news that the brave Colonel Lee was at hand, 
coming up full tilt to join us ; and also that General 
Green, with a choice detachment from the great Wash- 
ington, was bending towards Camden, to recover the 
laurels which the incautious Gates had lost. These 
glorious tidings at once explained the cause of the 
enemy's flight, and inspired us with a joy which the 
reader can better conceive than I express. 



230 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Marion's method of managing the militia — ^sends the author on another 
expedition against the tories — anecdote of Mr. F. Kinloch — curious 
dream of black Jonathan, and fortunate escape of Mr. Kinloch — ^the 
author's party surprised by the British, but come off with flying 
colors. 

The world, perhaps, never contained a partisan 
officer who better understood the management of militia 
than did General Marion. He was never for dragoon- 
ing a man into the service. " God loves a cheerful 
giver, and so do I," said he, " a willing soldier. To have 
him such you must convince him that it is his interest, 
for interest is every man's polestar. Every man wishes 
to be happy, and thereto wishes a happy wife and chil- 
dren, a happy country and friends. Convince him that 
all these invaluable blessings cannot be had without 
sweet liberty, and you shall have a soldier as brave as 
Washington. For no man, worthy of the name, could 
ever yet bear to see his wife, children and friends, en- 
slaved and miserable." Such was Marion's method of 
making soldiers. And what with this, and the cruelty 
of the British and tories, he had with him, perhaps, 
some of as brave and desperate men as ever fought. 

"Never ride a free horse to death," he used to say 
to his officers ; " push, while he is fresh, but soon as he 
begins to lag, then lie by and feed high is your play." 

For this purpose he always kept a snug hiding-place 



GEN FRANCIS MARION. 



231 



in reserve for us ; which was Snow's Island, a most 
romantic spot, and admirably fitted to our use. Nature 
had guarded it, nearly all round, with deep waters and 
inaccessible marshes ; and the neighboring gentlemen 
were all rich, and hearty whigs, who acted by us the 
double part of generous stewards and faithful spies, so 
that, while there, we lived at once in safety and plenty. 

We had reposed ourselves but two days in the pleas- 
ant wilds of Snow's Island, before Marion, learning 
that a part of the enemy were in the neighborhood, 
desired me to take Captains Clarke and Irwin, with fifty 
men, and try if I could not bring him a good account of 
them. 

We encamped the first night on the plantation of 
Mr. John Withers, where hearing that Mr. F. Kinloch, 
our member of Congress, was at a neighboring house, I 
sent him the following note : — 

Honorable Sir : 

If in these dangerous times you can think yourself 
safe among a handful of militia-men, I shall be very glad 
to see you at our camp. As to supper, thank God we 
can give you a trencher of fat pork and potatoes, but 
for bed and furniture, we can promise you nothing bet- 
ter than earth and sky. I shall place a sentinel on the 
road to conduct you to. 

Honorable Sir, you friend, 

Peter Horry. 

Mr. Kinloch, who was one of the cleverest men in 
the world, instantly set out to come to us, but unluckily 
missed our sentinel, and went several miles below us to 



232 THE LIFE OF 

Mr. Alexander Rose's plantation, managed by a mulatto 
driver named Jonathan. The day being nearly spent, 
Jonathan very politely urged Mr. Kinloch to alight and 
spend the night there, promising him a warm supper 
and a good bed. Mr. Kinloch accepted Jonathan s offer 
very cheerfully, and after taking part of a nice fowl and 
a cup of coffee, went to bed. He had not slept long be- 
fore Jonathan waked him up, and, with great terror in 
his looks, told him, *' he was mighty 'fraid there was 
harm a-brewing." 

" Aye, Jonathan ! why so, my good lad." 

" Oh, sir," replied Jonathan, " such a dream as I 
have had, sir ! a marvellous bad dream about the 
enemy's coming upon you to-night, sir ! " 

'' Poh ! " quoth Mr. Kinloch, turning himself over 
for another nap: "I have dreamed nothing about it, 
Jonathan. And I'm sure such a dream ought to have 
come to me, and not to you : so we'll even go to sleep 
again, and trust to heaven." 

Accordingly he fell asleep a second time ; but had 
not long enjoyed that sweetest of opiates, before Jona- 
than comes again, and awakes him with the old story of. 
his dream. 

"Well, Jonathan," said Mr. Kinloch, very good- 
naturedly, '' if you are determined to turn me out of 
doors, I suppose I must go. But where can I get to 
this time of night } " 

'* Why, sir," quoth Jonathan, "I'll get your horse 
and go with you to the main road, sir, and from there, 
you can't miss your way back to the house you came 
from this afternoon." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



233 



On Jonathan's return from the short distance he 
had conducted Mr. Kinloch, he found the yard filled 
with the British light horse ! 

These dreams are droll things ; but they sometimes 
come so well attested, that there is no doubting them. 
He who made our frame, can certainly speak to us as 
well asleep as awake ; and the wise will feel the impor- 
tance of making a friend of Him, who can cause an airy 
dream to defend us as effectually as a legion of angels. 

The next thing, just as we were about to encamp, 
we lighted on a negro fellow, belonging to Mr. Joseph 
Alston, whom I quickly had by the heels, lest he should 
give intelligence to the enemy. But, as the devil would 
have it, just before day, the sergeant of the guard, over- 
come by the negro's importunities, loosened him and 
let him go. And, mark now, young officers, what comes 
from disobeying orders. This villain of a blackamoor . 
had not gone above three miles before he fell in with 
the British, to whom, Judas-like, he betrayed us off 
hand ! and they as quickly took horse, and pushed on 
to surprise us. 

By sunrise I had all my men mounted ; Captain 
Clarke, leading the advance, myself and Captain Irwin 
bringing up the rest of the corps. 

The British first discovered Captain Clarke, which 
they did in the way of a glimpse, through an opening in 
the woods ; then sounding their bugles, they rushed on 
to the charge. Unfortunately, Qarke had not yet seen 
the enemy, and mistaking their bugles for the hunts- 
men's horns, ordered a halt to see the deer go by. But 
instead of a herd of flying deer, behold ! a column of 



234 ^^^ L^^^ ^^ 

British cavalry all at once bursting into the road, and 
shouting and rushing on with drawn swords to the 
charge. In a moment, as if themselves metamorphosed 
into deer, Clarke and his advance wheeled about, and 
giving their horses " the timber,"* flew back upon oUr 
main body, roaring out as they came in sight, " The 
British! the British!"" 

Quick as thought my men caught the panic, and 
facing about, took to their heels, and went off as if the 
d — 1 had been behind them. I bawled after them as 
loud as I could roar, " Halt ! Halt ! " but I might as well 
have bawled to the whirlwinds, for it appeared to me 
the louder I bawled, the swifter the rascals flew. Where- 
upon I clapped spurs to my young Janus, and went off 
after them at full stretch, hoping to gain their front and 
so bring them to. Being mounted on a young full- 
blooded charger, fresh and strong from the stable, I bid 
fair to gain my point too, for I was coming up with them 
hand over hand. But, in that very juncture of time, as 
the Lord was pleased to order it, my girth gave way, my 
saddle turned, and my charger fetching a ground start, 
threw me, saddle, holsters, and all, full ten feet over his 
head, and then ran off. I received no harm, God be 
praised for it, but recovering my legs in an instant, 
bawled out again to my men to halt and form. 

Happily for me, at the very moment of my disaster, 
the enemy, suspecting our flight to be only a finesse, 

* This is a Carolina phrase for slashing. If a husband should so far 
forget himself as to beat his wife ! which, thank God, is very rare, his 
neighbors, with great scorn, say of him as he pokes his hated face along, 
"Aye, that's the jockey that gives his wife the timber." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 235 

and very deliberately taking their aim at the enemy as 
they came up, gave them a spanker, which killed up- 
wards of half their number. The rest took to flight, 
leaving their colonel, whose horse was slain, to shift for 
himself, which he quickly did by running into the woods. 

The British were so near us when they received the 
fire of my men, that one of them, a stout fellow, as he 
wheeled to go off, came so close to me, where I stood on 
the ground, that he was lifting his broadsword for a back- 
handed stroke, which would probably have saved me the 
trouble of writing this history, had I not, with one of mv 
pistols, which I took from the saddle when my horse left 
me, anticipated his kindness, by driving a bullet through 
his shoulder, which brought him to the ground. Then 
mounting his horse, while my men caught the horses of 
those that were killed, we galloped off, very well satisfied 
that the affair had turned out no worse. 

On returning to Marion, I could not help complain- 
ing to him of my men, whose behavior, I said, in this 
last affair, had been so very dastardly, that I was much 
afraid, I should never again put confidence in them, nor 
gain any credit by commanding them. " Pshaw ! " said 
he, with a smile, " it is because you do not understand 
the management of them ; you command militia ; it will 
not do to expect too much from that sort of soldiers. If 
on turning out against the enemy, you find your men in 
high spirits, with burning eyes all kindling around you, 
had halted, while only sixteen dragoons under Colonel 
Camp, continued the chase. 

Scorning to fly from such a handful, some of my 
more resolute fellows, thirteen in number, faced about 



236 



THE LIFE OF 



that's your time, then in close columns, with sounding 
bugles and shining swords, dash on, and I'll warrant your 
men will follow you, eager as the lion's whelps bounding 
with their sire to the chase of the buffaloes. But on 
the other hand, if by any unlooked-for providence they 
get dismayed, and begin to run, you are not to fly in a 
passion with them, and show yourself as mad as they are 
cowardly. No ! you must learn to run too \ and as fast 
as they ; nay faster, that you may get into the front and 
encourage them to rally. 

" And as to the credit that you are to get by com- 
manding them, I find, my dear fellow, that you are en- 
tirely in the wrong there also. Our country cannot ex- 
pect us to cope with British regulars. War is an art, the 
deepest of all arts, because the greatest of all earthly 
consequences depend on it. And none can expect to 
be masters of that terrible art, but such as serve a long 
apprenticeship to it. But as we have served no appren- 
ticeship, we can know but little about it in comparison 
with our enemies, who in discipline and experience have 
greatly the advantage of us. But, thank God, we have 
our advantages too. We are far better riders, better 
woodsmen, and better marksmen than they. These 
are noble advantages. Let us but improve them by 
redoubled activity and vigilance, and kindness to our 
men, and especially by often conversing with them on 
the grounds of the war, the merits of our cause, and the 
vast consequences depending. Let us, I say, in this 
way, make them soldiers in principle, and fond of their 
officers, and all will be well yet. By cutting off the ene- 
my's foraging partie.s, drawing them into ambuscades 



GEN. FRANCIS MAR ION. 



237 



and falling upon them by surprise, we shall, I hope, so 
harass and consume them, as to make them glad to get 
out of our country. And then, the performance of such 
a noble act will bring us credit, and credit enough too, 
in the eyes of good men ; while even as to ourselves, the 
remembrance of having done so much to vindicate the 
rights of man, and make posterity the happier for us, 
will afford us a pleasure that may outlive this momentary 
being." 



23^ 



THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Colonel Harry Lee joins General Marion — Georgetown surprised — Colo- 
nel Campbell made prisoner — Major Irwin killed — Adjutant Crook-s 
shanks miraculously saved by his sweetheart — force of female affection 
— American generosity contrasted with British barbarism — interesting 
anecdotes of Mr. Cusac, young Gales and Dinkins, Colonel Lee's little 
bugler, John Wiley, Peter Yarnal, young M'Coy, Major Brown, Colonel 
Haynes, and Lord Rawdon. 

The next day, Colonel Lee with his legion-eame up, 
to the inexpressible joy of us all ; partly on account of 
his cavalry, which to be sure, was the handsomest we 
had ever seen ; bat much more on account of himself, 
of whom we had heard that, in deep art and undaunted 
courage, he was a second Marion. This, our high opin- 
ion of him, was greatly exalted by his own gallant con- 
duct, for he had been with us but a few days before he 
proposed the surprise of Georgetown, which was very 
cordially concurred with by General Marion. 

The infantry and cavalry employed on the occasion, 
were to approach the town at different points, -after mid- 
night, and at a signal from the latter, to commence the 
attack. Unfortunately, the cavalry did not get up in 
time, owing to some fault of their guide. The infantry 
arrived at the appointed moment, and dreading the dan- 
gers of delay, charged at once into the town, which they 
found utterly unprepared for an attack. Colonel Camp- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 239 

bell, the commander, was made prisoner in his bed; Ad- 
jutant Crookshanks, Major Irwin, and other officers were 
sound asleep at a tavern belonging to a genteel family, 
with whom they had spent the evening with great hilar- 
ity. A detachment of our men approached the house 
and surrounded it. Soon as the alarm was given, thj 
officers leaped out of bed, and not waiting to dress, flew 
into the piazza, flourishing their pistols and shouting to 
the charge. Major Irwin, with more courage than dis- 
cretion, fired a pistol, and would have tried another, but 
just as he had cocked it, he was stopped short by the 
stroke of a bayonet, which ended him and his courage 
together. Adjutant Crookshanks, acting in the same 
heroic style, would have shared the same fate, had it 
not been for an angel of a young woman, daughter of 
the gentleman of the house. This charming girl was 
engaged to be married to Crookshanks. Waked by the 
firing and horrid din of battle in the piazza, she was at 
first almost 'reft of her senses by the fright. But the 
moment she heard her lover's voice, all her terrors van- 
ished, and instead of hiding herself under the bedclothes, 
she rushed into the piazza amidst the mortal fray, with 
no armor but her love, no covering but her flowing 
tresses. Happily for her lover, she got to him just in 
time to throw her arms around his neck and scream out, 
"Oh save! save Major Crookshanks!" Thus, with 
her own sweet body shielding him against the uplifted 
swords of her enraged countrymen. 

Crookshanks yielded himself our prisoner ; but we 
paroled him on the spot, and left him to those delicious 
sentiments which he must have felt in the arms of an 



240 



THE LIFE OF 



elegant young woman, who had saved his life by an 
effort of love sufficient to endear her to him to all 
eternity. 

It was told us afterwards of this charming girl, that 
as soon as we were gone, and, of course, the danger past 
and the tumult of her bosom subsided, she fell into a 
swoon, from which it was with difficulty that she was 
recovered. Her extreme fright, on being waked by the 
firing and horrid uproar of battle in the house, and her 
strong sympathy in her lover's danger, together with the 
alarm occasioned by finding herself in his arms, were 
too much for her delicate frame. 

There is a beauty in generous actions which charms 
the souls of men ; and a sweetness, which like that im- 
mortal love whence it flows, can never die. The eyes 
of all, even the poorest soldiers in our camp, sparkled 
with pleasure whenever they talked, as they often did, 
of this charming woman, and of our generosity to Major 
Crookshanks ; and to this day, even after a lapse of 
thirty years, I never think of it but with pleasure ; a 
pleasure as exquisite^ perhaps, as what I felt at the first 
moment of that transaction. 

And it is a matter of great satisfaction to me, to 
think how nobly different in this respect was our con- 
duct from that of the British. I speak not of the British 
nation, which I hold most magnanimous ; but of their 
officers in Carolina, such as Cornwallis, Rawdon, Tarle- 
ton, Weymies, Brown, and Balfour, who instead of treat- 
ing their prisoners as we did Crookshanks, have often 
been known to butcher them in cold blood ; though 
their fathers, mothers, and children, on bended knees, with 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 24.I 

wringing hands and streaming eyes, have been imploring 
pity for them. 

There was Mr. Adam Cusac, of WiUiamsburg dis- 
trict ; this brave man, 

" This buckskin Hampden; that, with dauntless breast, 
The basejnvaders of his rights withstood," 

was surprised in his own house by Major Weymies, who 
tore him away from his shrieking wife and children, 
marched him up to Cheraw court-house, and after ex- 
posing him to the insults of a sham trial, had him con- 
demned and hung ! The only charge ever exhibited 
against him was, that he had shot across Black river at 
one of Weymies' tory captains. 

There was that gallant lad of liberty, Kit Gales, 
with his brave companion, Sam Dinkins : these two 
heroic youths were dogged to the house of a whig friend» 
near the hills of Santee, where they were surprised in 
their beds by a party of tories, who hurried them away to 
Lord Rawdon, then on his march from Charleston to 
Camden. Rawdon quickly had them, according to his 
favorite phrase, " knocked into irons," and marched on 
under guard with his troops. On halting for breakfast, 
young Gales was tucked up to a tree, and choked with 
as little ceremony as if he had been a mad dog. He 
and young Dinkins had it seems, the day before, with 
their horses and rifles, ventured alone, so near the 
British army, as to fire several shots at them ! For 
such heroic daring in defence of their country, in place 
of receiving applause from Lord Rawdon, Gales, as we 
have seen, received his bloody death. His gallant young 
friend, Dinkins, was very near drawing his rations of a 

16 



242 THE LIFE OF 

like doleful dish, for Lord Rawdori had him mounted 
upon the same cart with the halter round his neck, ready 
for a launch into eternity, when the tories suggested to 
his lordship their serious apprehensions that a terrible 
vengeance might follow : this saved his life. 

' Everybody has heard the mournful story of Colonel 
Lee's little bugler, and who he was murdered by Col- 
onel Tarleton. This "poor beardless boy," as Lee, in 
his pathetic account of that horrid transaction, calls 
him, had been mounted on a very fleet horse ; but to 
gratify a countryman who had brought some news of the 
British, and was afraid of falling into their hands, Lee 
ordered the boy to exchange his horse, a moment, for 
that of the countryman, which happened to be a miser- 
able brute. This Lee did in his simplicity, not even 
dreaming that anything in the shape of civilized man 
could think of harming such a child. Scarcely had Lee 
left him, when he was overtaken by Tarleton's troopers, 
who dashed up to him with looks of death, brandishing 
their swords over his head. In vain his tender cheeks, 
reminding them of their own youthful brothers, sought 
to touch their pity ; in vain, with feeble voice, and as 
long as he was able, he continued to cry for quarter. 
They struck their cruel swords into his face and arms, 
which they gashed with so mortal wounds that he died 
the next day. 

" Is your name Wiley } " said one of Tarleton's cap- 
tains, whose name was Tuck, to Mr. John Wiley, sheriff 
of Canden, who had lately whipped and cropped a noted 
horse thief, named Smart. " Is your name Wiley .? " 
said Captain Tuck to the young man, at whose door he 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



243 



rode up and asked the question. " Yes, sir," replied Mr. 
Wiley. " Well, then, sir, you are a d — n — d rascal," re- 
joined Captain Tuck, giving him at the same time a 
cruel blow over the forehead with his broadsword. 
Young Wiley, though doomed to die, being not yet 
slain, raised his naked arm to screen the blow. This, 
though no more than a common instinct in poor human 
nature in the moment of terror, served but to redouble 
the fury of Captain Tuck, who continued his blows at 
the bleeding, staggering youth, until death kindly placed 
him beyond the reach of human malice. 

All this was done within a few hundred paces of 
Lord Cornwallis, who never punished Captain Tuck. 

But poor Peter Yarnall's case seems still more de- 
plorable. This hard-fated man, a simple, inoffensive 
quaker, lived near Camden. Having urgent business 
with a man, who, as he understood, was with General 
Sumpter, on the opposite side of the Catawba, he went 
over to him. The man happened, at that moment, to 
be keeping guard over some tory prisoners. A paper 
which Yarnall wanted to see was, it seems, in a jacket 
pocket in the man's tent hard by. " Hold my piece a 
moment, sir," said he to Yarnall, " and I'll bring the 
paper.*' Yarnall, though averse, as a quaker, from all 
killing of enemies with a gun, yet saw no objection to 
holding one a moment. The next day, a day forever 
black in the American calendar, witnessed the surprisal 
of General Sumpter and the release of the tory prison- 
ers, one of whom immediately went his way and told 
Colonel Tarleton that he had seen Peter Yarnall, the 
day before, keeping guard over the king's friends, pris- 



oners to the rebels. The poor man's house was quickly 
surrounded by the British cavalry. Vain were all his 
own explanations, his wife's entreaties, or his children's 
cries. He was dragged to Camden, and thrust into 
prison. Every morning, his wife and daughter, a girl 
of about fifteen, rode into town in an old chair, to see 
him and to bring him milk and fruits, which must have 
been highly acceptable to one crammed, in the dogdays, 
into a small prison, with one hundred and sixty-three 
half -stifled wretches. On the fourth day, an amiable 
young lady, Miss Charlton, living near the prison, had 
heard of poor Yarnall's fate that morning. Soon there- 
fore as she saw Mrs. Yarn all and her daughter coming 
along as usual, with their little present to their husband 
and father, she bursted into tears. Mrs. Yarnall alight- 
ed at the door of the gaol, and begged to see her hus- 
band. " Follow me," said one of the guard, " and I'll 
show you your husband." As she turned the corner, 
" There he is madam," saiil the soldier, pointing to her 
husband as he hung dead on a beam from the window. 
The daughter sunk to the ground ; but her mother, as 
if petrified at the sight, stood silent and motionless, 
gazing on her dead husband with that wild keen eye of 
unutterable woe, which pierces all hearts. Presently, as 
if braced up with despair, she seemed quite recovered, 
and calmly begged one of the soldiers to assist her to 
take down the corpse and lay it in the bottom of the 
chair. Then taking her seat, with her daughter sobbing 
by her side, and her husband dead at her feet, she drove 
home apparently quite unmoved ; and during the whole 
time she was preparing his cofEn and performing the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



245 



funeral, duties, she preserved the same firm unaltered 
looks. But soon as the grave had shut its mouth on her 
husband, and divorced him forever from her sight, the 
remembrance of the past rushed upon her thoughts with 
a weight too heavy for her feeble nature to bear. Then 
clasping her hands in agony, she shrieked out, " Poor 
me ! poor me ! I have no husband, no friend now ! " and 
immediately ran raving mad, and died in that state. 

There was young M'Coy : the eye of humanity must 
weep often, as she turns the page that tells how this 
amiable youth was murdered. His father was one of 
the most active of our militia captains. As none better 
understood American rights, so none more deeply re- 
sented British aggressions, than did Captain M'Coy. 
His just views and strong feelings, were carefully in- 
stilled into his boy, who, though but fifteen, shouldered 
his musket, and, in spite of his mother's tears, followed 
his father to war. Many a gallant Englishman received 
his death at their hands. For, being well acquainted 
with the river, and bravely supported by their friends, 
they often fired upon the enemy's boats, killing their 
crews and intercepting their provisions. This so en- 
raged Colonel Brown, the British commander at Augusta 
that he made several attempts to destroy Captain 
M'Coy. Once, in particular, he despatched a captain 
and fifty men to surprise him. But M'Coy kept so 
good a look out, that he surprised and killed the cap- 
tain and twenty of his men. The rest, by giving good 
leg-bail, made their escape. Young M'Coy fought by 
the side of his father in this and many other rencontres, 



246 THE LIFE OF 

in one of which he had the great good fortune to save 
his father's life. 

At the head of some gallant friends, they fell in with 
a strong party of tories, near Brier creek, commanded 
by a British officer. As usual, an obstinate and bloody 
contest ensued. The combatants quickly coming to 
close quarters, M,Coy grappled with the officer ; but 
not possessing strength equal to his courage, he was 
overpowered and thrown on the ground. The youth, 
who had just fired his piece into the bosom of a tory, 
seeing his father's danger, flew to his aid, and with the 
butt of his gun knocked out the brains of the officer, at 
the very instant he was lifting his dirk for the destruc- 
tion of his father. 

In a skirmish, in which his party were victorious, 
Captain M'Coy was mortally wounded, and died exhort- 
ing his son still to fight undauntedly for the liberties of 
his country. After the death of his father young M'Coy 
joined the brave Captain Clarke. In an expedition 
against Colonel Brown, Clarke was defeated, and young 
M*Coy made prisoner. Hearing of his misfortune, his 
mother hastened to Augusta, but arrived only in time 
to meet him with Colonel Brown and a guard, carrying 
him out to the gallows. With gushing tears, she fell 
upon his neck, and bitterly mourned her lot, as wretched 
above all women, in thus losing her husband and only son. 

The behavior of young M'Coy, it is said, was heroic 
beyond his years. Instead of melting with his discon- 
solate mother, he exhorted her like one who had acted 
on principle, and now felt its divine consolations stronger 
than death. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



247 



He entreated his mother not to weep for him, nor 
for his father. "In the course of nature, mother," said 
he, '' we were to part. Our parting indeed, is early ; 
but it is glorious. My father was like a lion in battle 
for his country. As a young lion, I fought by his side. 
And often, when the battle was over, did he embrace 
and call me his boy ! his own brave boy ! and said I was 
worthy of you both. He has just gone before, and I 
now follow him, leaving you the joy to remember, that 
your son and husband have attained the highest honor 
on earth ; the honor of fighting and dying for the rights 
of man." 

Anxious to save the life of so dear a son, poor Mrs. 
M'Coy fell on her knees to Colonel Brown, and with all 
the widowed mother agonizing in her looks, pleaded for 
his life. But in vain. With the dark features of a soul 
horribly triumphant over the cries of mercy, he repulsed 
her suit, and ordered the executioner to do his office ! 
He hung up the young man before the eyes of his 
mother ! and then, with savage joy, suffered his Indians, 
in her presence, to strike their tomakawks into his fore- 
head > that forehead which she had so often pressed to her 
bosom, and kissed with all the transports of a doating 
mother. 

Who, without tears, can think of the hard fate of 
poor Colonel Haynes and his family. 

Soon as the will of heaven had thrown Charleston 
into the hands of the British, Lord Cornwallis, famed 
foT pompous proclamations, began to publish. The 
tenor of his gasconade was, that Carolina was now, to 
all intents and purposes, subjugated ; that the enemies 



248 THE LIFE OF 

of his lord the king were all at his mercy; and that 
though, by the war rubric for conquered rebels, he had 
a right to send fire and sword before him, with blood 
and tears following in his course ; though he had a 
right to feed the birds of heaven with rebel carcasses,, 
and to fatten his soldiers with their confiscated goods 
yet he meant not to use that dreadful right. No 
indeed ! Far from him were all such odious thoughts. 
On the contrary he wished to be merciful : and as proof 
of his sincerity, all that he asked of the poor deluded 
people of his majesty's colony of South Carolina, was, 
that they should no longer take part nor lot in the con- 
test, but continue peaceably at their homes. And that, 
in reward thereof, they should be most sacredly pro- 
tected in property and person. 

This proclamation was accompanied with an instru- 
ment of neutrality, as an " outward and visible sign of 
an inward and spiritual grace," in my Lord Cornwallis 
towards the Carolinians ; and which instrument they 
were invited to sign, that they might have a covenant 
right to the aforesaid promised blessings of protection, 
both in property and person. 

The heart of Colonel Haynes was with his country- 
men, and fervently did he pray that his hands could be 
with them too. But, these, alas ! were bound up by his 
wife and children, whom, it is said, he loved passing 
well. Helpless and trembling as they were, how could 
they be deserted by him in this fearful season, and given 
up to a brutal soldiery t And why should he insure the 
destruction of a large estate, when all opposition seemed 
hopeless } In short, with thousands of others, he went 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 



249 



and signed an instrument which promised security to 
his family and fortune. But alas 1 from that fatal 
moment he never more enjoyed peace. To hate the 
ministerial measures as he did, and yet thus tamely to 
have submitted to them ; to love his country as heartily 
as he did, and to know that she was now fighting, with 
her all at stake, and yet thus to have deserted her f 

These keen self-condemning reflections harrowed 
every root of quiet from his soul. If he went to his 
couch, it was only to groan, sleepless and tossing, all the 
restless night. If he got up, it was but to sit, or walk 
to and fro in his family, with dark and woeful looks, like 
one whom trouble had overcome. 

In the midst of these anguishing reflections, which 
appeared to be wearing hmi fast to the grave, a respite 
was afforded, and by a hand from which it was least 
expected. Lord Cornwallis, having by his first proclam- 
ation, obtained to the instrument of neutrality aforesaid, 
the signatures of many thousands of the citizens of 
South Carolina, then came out with a second proclama- 
tion, in which he nominates the paper above not an 
instrument of neutrality, but a bond of allegiance to the 
king, and calls upon all who had signed it, to take up 
arms against the rebels ! — threatening to treat as desert- 
ers those who refused ! 

This fraud of my Lord Cornwallis, excited in all 
honest men the deepest indignation. It completely 
revived Colonel Haynes. To his unspeakable joy, he 
now saw opened a door of honorable return to duty and 
happiness. And since, contrary to the most solemn 
compact, he was compelled to fight, he very naturally 



250 THE LIFE OF 

determined to fight the British, rather than his own 
countrymen. He fled to his countrymen, who received 
him with joy, and gave him a command of horse. He 
was surprised and carried to Charleston, where Lord 
Rawdon, then commandant, ordered him, in his favorite 
phrase, to be knocked into irons. A mock trial, digni- 
fied with the name of court-martial, was held over him, 
and Colonel Haynes was sentenced to be hung. Every- 
body in Charleston, Britons as well as Americans, all 
heard this sentence with horror, except Colonel Haynes 
himself. On his cheek alone, all agree, it produced no 
change. It appeared that the deed which he had done, 
signing that accursed paper, had run him desperate. 
Though the larger part, even of his enemies, believing 
that it was done merely from sympathy with his wife 
and children, felt the generous disposition to forgive 
him, yet he could never forgive himself. It had in- 
flicted on his mind a wound too ghastly to be healed. 

To their own, and to the great honor of human na- 
ture, numbers of the British and loyalists, with Governor 
Bull at their head, preferred a petition to Lord Rawdon 
in his behalf. But the petition was not noticed. The 
ladies then came forward in his favor with a petition, 
couched in the most delicate and moving terms, and 
signed by all the principal females of Charleston, tories 
as well as whigs. But all to ho purpose. It was then 
suggested by the friends of humanity, that if the colonel's 
little children, for they had no mother, she, poor woman 
crushed under the double weight of grief and the small- 
pox, was just sunk at rest in the grave. It was suggested, 
I say, that if the colonel's little children, dressed in 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2$! 

mourning, were to fall at the knees of Lord Rawdon, he 
would pity their motherless condition, and give to their 
prayers their only surviving parent. They were accord- 
ingly dressed in black, and introduced into his presence : 
they fell down at his knees, and, with clasped hands and 
tear-streaming eyes, lisped their father's name, and 
begged his life : but in vain. 

So many efforts to save him, both by friends and 
generous foes, could not be made, unknown to Colonel 
Haynes. But he appeared perfectly indifferent about 
the result ! and when told that they had all failed, he re- 
plied with the utmost unconcern, " Well, thank God, 
Lord Rawdon cannot hurt me. He cannot be more 
anxious to take my life than I am to lay it down." 

With his son, a youth of thirteen, who was permitted 
to stay with him in the prison, Colonel Haynes used often 
to converse, in order to fortify him against the sad trial 
that was at hand. And indeed it was necessary, for sel- 
dom has a heavier load been laid on a tender-hearted 
youth. War, like a thick cloud, had darkened up the 
gay morning of his days : the grave had j«ast closed her 
mouth on a mother who doated on him ; and he now be- 
held his only parent, a beloved father, in the power of 
his enemies, loaded with irons, and condemned to die. 
With cheeks wet with tears, he sat continually by his 
father's side, and looked at him with eyes so piercing 
and sad, as often wrung tears of blood from his heart. 

" Why," said he, " my son, will you thus break your 
father's heart with unavailing soirow } Have I not often 
told you, that we came into this world but to prepare for 
a better ? For that better life, my dear boy, your father 



252 



THE LIFE OF 



is prepared. Instead then of weeping, rejoice with me, 
my son, that my troubles are so near an end. To-morrow* 
I set out for immortality. You will accompany me to 
the place of my execution ; and when I am dead, take 
and bury me by the side of your mother." 

The youth here fell on his father's neck, crying, '* Oh 
my father ! my father ! I will die with you ! I will die 
with you ! " 

Colonel Haynes would have returned the strong em- 
brace of his son ; but, alas ! his hands were loaded with 
irons. " Live," said he, " my son, live to honor God by 
a good life ; live to serve your country ; and live to take 
care of your brother and little sisters ! " 

The next morning Colonel Haynes was conducted to 
the place of execution. His son accompanied him. 
Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father 
strengthened himself and said, "Now, my son, show 
yourself a man. That tree is the boundary of my life, 
and of all my life's sorrows. Beyond that, the wicked 
cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. Don't 
lay too much to heart our separation from you ; it will 
be but short. 'Twas but lately your dear mother died. 
To-day I die. And you, my son, though but young, 
must shortly follow us." 

" Yes, my father " replied the broken-hearted youth, 
" I shall shortly follow you : for indeed I feel that I can- 
not live long." And so it happened unto him. For on 
seeing his father in the hands of the executioner, and ^ 
then struggling in the halter, he stood like one trans- 
fixed and motionless with horror. Till then he had wept 
incessantly ; but soon as he saw that sight, the fountain 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 253 

of his tears were staunched, and he never wept more. 
It was thought that grief, hke a fever, burnt inwardly, 
and scorched his brain, for he became indifferent to 
everything around him, and often wandered as one dis- 
ordered in his mind. At times, he took lessons from a 
fencing master, and talked of going to England to fight 
the murderer of his father. But he who made him had 
pity on him, and sent death to his relief. He died in- 
sane, and in his last moments often called on the name 
of his father, in terms that brought tears from the hard- 
est hearts. 

I hope my reader will not suppose, from these odious 
truths which I have been telling him about the British 
and tories, that I look on them as worse than other men ; 
or that I would have him bear an eternal hatred against 
them. No, God forbid. On the contrary, I have no 
doubt on my mind, that the British and tories are men of 
the same passions with ourselves. And I also as firmly 
believe, that, if placed in their circumstances, we should 
have acted just as they did. Upon honor this is my 
conviction now ; but it was not always so : for I confess 
there was a time, when I had my prejudices against 
them, and prejudices, too, as strong as those of any 
other man, let him be who he would. But thank God 
those prejudices, so dishonorable to the head, and so 
uneasy to the heart, are done away from me now. And 
form this most happy deliverance, I am, through the 
divine goodness, principally indebted to my honored 
friend, General Marion, of whose noble sentiments, on 
these subjects, I beg leave to give the reader some little 
specimen in the next chapter. 



«S4 



THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Short and sweet — or a curious dialogue between General Marion and 
Captain Snipes, on retaliation. 

" No radiant pearls that crested fortune wears, 
No gem that sparkling hangs in beauty's ears ; 
Not the bright stars that night's blue arch adorn, 
Nor opening suns that gild the vernal morn, 
Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows 
Down virtue's manly cheeks, for others' woes." 

What gigantic form is that which stalks thus awfully 
before the eyes of my memory ; his face, rough and 
dark as the cloud of winter, and his eyeballs burning 
like coals of fire ? 'Tis the impetuous Captain Snipes. 
He is just returned from the quarter-house near Charles- 
ton, where he and Captain M'Cauley, with Macdonald 
and forty men, have recently surprised and cut to pieces 
a large party of the enemy. He looks as if the fury of the 
battle had not yet subsided in his wrathful countenance. 
His steps are towards Marion, and as he presents a 
packet, he exclaims in an angry tone, " There, sir, is a 
Charleston paper. You'll see there how those villains 
are going on yet. Not satisfied with all the murders 
they had committed before, they have gone now and 
murdered Colonel Haynes." Here he gave the heads 
of that disgraceful act, seasoning his speech every now 
and then, as he went along, with sundry very bitter im- 
precations on Lord Rawdon. 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. 



«S5 



" Ah shame ! shame upon him ! " replied the general 
with a sigh, and shaking his head ; " shame upon Lord 
Rawdon ! " 

" Shame!" answered Captain Snipes, his eyes flash- 
ing fire ; " shame I I hope something heavier than 
shame will light upon him for it soon. The American 
officers have sworn never again to give quarter to the 
British or tories." 

Marion. God forbid that my countrymen should 
have taken such an oath as that ! 

Snipes. Why, General Marion, would you have the 
enemy go on at this rate, and we take no revenge ? 

M. Revenge ? O yes, to be sure, sir ; revenge is 
sweet, and by all means let us have it ; but let it be of 
the right kind. 

5. Of the right kind, sir ! what do you call revenge 
of the right kind .-* 

M. Why, sir, I am for taking that kind of revenge 
which will make our enemies ashamed of their conduct, 
and abandon it for ever. 

S. Ashamed of their conduct ! Monsters I they are 
not capable of shame. 

M. Pshaw 1 don't talk so, Captain Snipes ! our ene- 
mies, sir, are men, and just such men as we are ; and as 
capable of generous actions, if we will but show them 
the way. 

vS. Well then. General Marion, how do you account 
for that great difference between us and them in point 
of spirits } We have never yet killed any of their men, 
except in fair fight, that I have heard of ; but they have 



256 THE LIFE OP 

often murdered ours. Yes, the cowardly rascals ! they 
have often done it, and that in cold blood too. 

M. Granted. And I am very glad that when we 
have had them in our power, we have always treated 
them so much more generously. But, I suppose the 
reason of such barbarity on their part, is, they have had, 
or which is the same thing, have thought they had 
greater provocations. 

S. They be d — n — d, they and their provocations 
too ! Are not we the persons who have been invaded, 
and plundered and murdered by them, and not they by 
us .^ How then can they have greater provocations } 

M. Why, sir, sprung originally from them, and al- 
ways looked on by them as. their children, our turning 
now and fighting against them, must appear, in their 
sight, a very great provocation ; as great perhaps as 
that of children fighting against their parents. And 
again, our shaking off what they glory in, as the wisest, 
and freest, and happiest government on earth, must 
make us seem to them as no better than the vilest 
traitors and rebels ; which cannot otherwise than prove 
another very great provocation. And again, after having 
been first settled in this country by them, as they will 
have it, and afterwards, so long and liberally assisted 
with their best blood and treasure, in hope that some 
day or other we should be of service to them ; that now, 
at the very time when, by our immense population, we 
were just arrived to the so long desired point, to swell 
their wealth and spread their commerce and arms over 
the world, we should separate from them, blast all their 
fond hopes, and throw them back to the former level ; 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 257 

this, I say, you will certainly allow, must be a very 
severe provocation. Now, sir, putting all the provoca- 
tions together, and also taking poor human nature into 
the account, is it to be wondered at, that the British 
should be so much more angry, and consequently more 
violent than we ? 

5. Why, certainly, General Marion, you have always 
a very fine knack of setting off your arguments. But 
still, sir, I can't see things in that light. For a man, sir, 
to go and trump up a pack of claims against me, and all 
of them because I can't credit him in the abominable 
extent he wishes, to fall upon me and kill and murder 
me, as the British and tories have done with us, and we 
not stop them by revenge ! why, my God \ sir, it will 
never do. For, at this rate, whom shall we have living 
in all this country, in a little time, but the British, and 
their friends the tories and negroes .? 

M. My brave captain, let me tell you again, I am as 
anxious to stop them as you can possibly wish me to be ; 
but I am for doing it in what I think the right way. I 
mean the way of policy and humanity. 

S. Policy, sir ! can there be policy in letting our 
best men be murdered by these savages ! I'm sure Gen- 
eral Washington did not think so. For, though I 
am no man of learning myself, yet I have been told by 
those that are, that, on its being threatened by General 
Gage to hang an American soldier, he instantly wrote 
him word, that if he dared to do such a thing, the life of 
a British soldier should pay for it. And, it is well 
known, that he kept the British army and nation too, in 
a fright for three months together, with the halter con- 



258 THE LIFE OF 

stantly around the neck of Captain Asgil, expecting 
every day to be hung for the murder of Captain Huddy. 
M. True ; General Washington did act so. And it 
was policy so to act against a foreign enemy. But our 
standing with the tories is quite a different case, and 
requires a very different course. The tories are our 
countrymen, a part of our own population and strength, 
so that every man of them that is killed, is a man for- 
ever lost to ourselves. Now, since the British have 
put them up to murder us, if we go, out of revenge, to 
murder them again, why, in the course of a little time 
our population will be so cut up, as to allow the British 
ministry, with ease, to take our country, and make slaves 
of us all ; which is just what Lord North desires. 

5. Yes, I dare say it is. But I hope he'll be disap- 
pointed yet. 

M. No doubt of it, sir ; if we shall be wise and mag- 
nanimous enough to follow the true policy, which is no 
other than humanity to these deluded people, the tories j 
and to this we have every inducement that generous 
spirits could desire. The tories and ourselves are 
brothers ; many of us went to the same school together ; 
and a thousand times have ate and drank in each other's 
houses. And as to the quarrel in which we are now 
unfortunately engaged, though not the most, still we are 
much in fault. We made no allowances for those follies 
of theirs which led to it. They thought — first. That we 
were too nearly allied to England to go to war with her ; 
this was a weakness, but there was something amiable 
in it. — Secondly, They thought the British were much 
too warlike and powerful to be resisted by us : this was 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 259 

an error, but it was learned in the nursery. — Thirdly, 
They wished to keep in with the British, merely that 
they might save their property ; this was altogether 
from fear, and therefore claimed some commiseration. 
But no ! we could not grant one grain of indulgence to 
any of their mistakes. We would have it, they all pro- 
ceeded from the vilest of motives. We called them 
traitors, and cowards, and scoundrels ; and loaded them 
with a thousand indignities besides. Well the conse- 
quences were, as might have been expected from human 
weakness and passion. Wrought to desperation, and 
caring not what they did, they have joined our enemies 
and many valuable lives have been lost on both sides. 
Surely 'tis high time now that we should set about doing 
something to end it 

5. Well ! let them set about ending it themselves. 
They were the first to begin it. 

M. But would you have the tories to lead to glory } 

S. Glory ! I should think it meanness to be the first 
to make overtures to such rascals ! 

M, Well, but. Captain Snipes, when brethren, as we 
are, fall out, is it policy to go on to exasperate and cut 
each other's throats, until our enemy comes and takes 
away a fine country, of which, by such madness, we had 
rendered ourselves unworthy } Would it not be much 
bettei policy to trace back all wrong steps of passion 
and revenge, and making hearty friends again, and join- 
ing our forces against the common enemy, drive him 
out of our country ; and then by establishing a free 
government and encouraging agriculture and commerce, 
and learning, and religion, make ourselves a great and 



26o THE LIFE OF 

happy people again ; would not this, I say be the true 
policy ? 

S. Why yes, I confess, General Marion, it would be 
a noble thing, and very desirable, if it could be done. 
But I cannot bear to think of being the first to make 
terms with the tories, after they have been burning, and 
plundering, and murdering our best friends. It is too 
hard, sir, for mortal flesh and blood. 

M. It is a great trial, I confess ; but " the heavier 
the cross the brighter the crown," you know, sir. And 
as to the difficulty of the undertaking, that's the very 
thing that should make us jump at it ; the glory of 
showing ourselves wiser and better men than our enemy. 
And besides, let us recollect that the glory of this ex- 
ploit all now lies with us : for if we do not pluck up 
courage and do it, it will never be done. The tories 
are, generally, an ignorant people ; and therefore not 
much of wise or good is to be expected from that quar- 
ter. They have also, in many instances, acted a very 
savage part by us : their consciousness of this can have 
no tendency to make them court reconciliation with us. 
Since, then, but little is to be expected from them, it 
seems incumbent on us to do the more. We have 
better information, and we have also a much better 
cause. These are great advantages which God has 
given us : and now it becomes us to improve them, to 
his glory and to our own honor, by showing a concilia- 
tory and magnanimous spirit towards our enemies. And 
though it should cost us labor to win such a victory, 
yet, I am confident, that when won, it will appear to us 
the most glorious that we ever achieved. To conquer 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION, 26 1 

an enemy by the sword, is, no doubt, honorable; but 
still it is nothing in comparision of conquering him by 
generosity. As arguing both superior virtue and cour- 
age, it commands higher admiration from the world, and 
is reflected on by ourselves with far more self-esteem 
and applause. And then, sir, only consider how such 
conduct will gild the future scenes of life. This unfor- 
tunate quarre betwixt us and our countrymen, the 
tories, is not to last forever. It was only the act of a 
wicked ministry, attempting, by an unconstitutional -tax 
to enslave an affectionate part of the nation. God can 
never suffer such an attempt to prosper. It must be 
but a momentary quarrel ; and we ought to accustom 
ourselves to think of it as such, and to look beyond it to 
the happy days that are to succeed. And since the 
storm of war is soon to subside into the calm of peace, 
let us do nothing now, that may throw a cloud over the 
coming sunshine. Let us not even talk of exterminating 
war ; that unnatural crime which would harrow up our 
souls with the pangs of remorse, and haunt our repose 
with the dread of retaliation — which would draw down 
upon our cause the curse of heaven, and make our very 
name the odium of all generations. But, far differently, 
let us act the generous part of those who, though now 
at variance, are yet brothers, and soon to be good 
friends again. And then, when peace returns, we shall 
be in proper frame to enjoy it. No poor woman that 
we meet will seem to upbraid us for the slaughter of her 
husband ; no naked child, for robbing him of his father; 
no field will cry against us for a brother's blood. On 
the contrary, whenever the battles which we are now 



262 THE LIFE OF 

fighting, shall recur to our thoughts, with the frightened 
enemy grounding their arms and crying for quarter, we 
shall remember how we heard their cries and stopped 
the uplifted sword. Joy will spring in our bosoms, and 
all around will smile with approbation. The faces of 
the aged will shine upon us, because we spared their 
sons ; bright-eyed females will bless us for their surviv- 
ing husbands : and even the lips of the children will 
lisp our praises. Thus with a heaven of delighted feel- 
ing in our hearts, and the smiles both of God and man 
on our heads, we shall pass the evening of our days in 
glorious peace. And when death shall call us to that 
better world, we shall obey without reluctance. Con- 
scious of neither dread nor hate towards any of the 
blessed people that dwell there, we shall go in strong 
hope of witnessing the bright realities of that state, 
where all is immortality and love. Perhaps we shall 
there meet many of those whom it has been our sad 
destiny to fight with here ; not in their present imper- 
fect state, but in their state of exaltation, clad in robes 
brighter than the stars, and their faces outshining the 
sun in his noonday splendors. Perhaps at sight of us, 
these glorious spirits may rush with new-flushed beau- 
ties, to embrace us, and in the presence of crowding 
angels, recount our kindness to them in the days of 
their mortality ; while all the dazzling throngs, listening 
delighted, shall fix on us their eyes of love, inspiring 
those joys which none but strong immortals could sus 
tain. Are not these, O my friends, hopes worth con- 
tending for t Is revenge to be cherished that would 
rob us of such honors ? Can generosity be dear that 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



263 



would ensure to us such so great rewards ? Then let 
us not think benevolence was enjoined in vain, which is 
to conduct us to such immortal felicities. 

As Marion spoke these words, his countenance, 
which in general was melancholy, caught an animation 
beyond the reader's fancy to conceive. The charms of 
goodness, and the bright rewards which await it, were 
painted in such living colors on his face, that not even 
the stranger could have beheld it unmoved. On me, 
who almost adored Marion for his godlike virtues, its 
effects were past describing. My bosom heaved with 
emotions unutterable, while the tear of delicious admira- 
tion swelled in my eyes. As to Captain Snipes, he ap- 
peared equally affected. His eyes were riveted on the 
general, and towards the close of the speech his breath 
seemed suspended ; his color went and came ; and his 
face reddened and swelled, as under the powerful 
eloquence of the pulpit. 



264 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Marion and Lee attack and take fort Watson and fort Lee — ^interesting 

anecdotes. 

From Georgetown, Marion proceeded with Colonel 
Lee to attack the British post on Scott's lake, generally- 
called fort Watson. The situation of this fort was ro- 
mantic and beautiful in the extreme. Overlooking the 
glassy level of the lake, it stood on a mighty barrow or 
tomb like a mount, formed of the bones of Indian na- 
tions, there heaped up from time immemorial, and 
covered with earth and herbage. Finding that the fort 
mounted no artillery, Marion resolved to make his ap- 
proaches in a way that should give his riflemen a fair 
chance against their musketeers. For this purpose, 
large quantities of pine logs were cut, and as soon as 
dark came on, were carried in perfect silence, within 
point blank shot of the fort, and run up in the shape of 
large pens or chimney-stacks, considerably higher than 
the enemy's parapets. Great, no doubt, was the con- 
sternation of the garrison next morning, to see them- 
selves thus suddenly overlooked by this strange kind of 
steeple, pouring down upon them from its blazing top 
incessant showers of rifle bullets. Nor were they die 
the while, but returned the blaze with equal fury, pre- 
senting to us, who lay at a distance, a very interesting 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 265 

scene — as of two volcanoes that had suddenly broke out 
into fiery strife, singeing the neighboring pines. 

Though their enemy, yet I could not but pity the 
British, when I saw the great disadvantage under which 
they fought. For our riflemen, lying above them and 
firing through loopholes, were seldom hurt ; while the 
British, obliged, every time they fired, to show their 
heads, were frequently killed. Increasing still the awk- 
wardness of their situation, their well, which was on the 
outside of the fort, was so entirely in the reach of our 
rifles, that they could not get a pail of water for coffee 
or grog, without the utmost hazard. After a gallant 
resistance, they surrendered themselves prisoners of 
war; one hundred and twenty in number. 

This fort had been very judiciously fixed in a country 
exceedingly fertile, and on a lake abounding with fine 
fish, and from its contiguity to the river Santee, forming 
an admirable deposit for their upland posts. From 
their military storehouse, which was on the outside of 
the fort, the British attempted, at the commencement 
of our attack, to get out their goods, and to roll them up 
into the fort. But in this exposed state, their men were 
picked off so fast by our sharpshooters, that they were 
soon obliged to quit such hot work. 

The sight of their casks and bales, rolled out and 
shining so richly on the side of the hill, set the fingers 
of our ragged militiamen on such an itch, that there 
was no resisting it. And presently a squad of three of 
them were seen pushing out, without leave or license, to 
attack a large hogshead, that lay very invitingly on the 
outside of the rest. The enemy seeing the approach of 

27 



266 THE LIFE OF 

our buccaneers, reserved their fire until they had got 
pretty near up to the intended prize ; then all at once 
cut loose upon them with a thundering clap, which 
killed one, crippled a second, and so frightened the 
third, that he forgot the cask, and turning tail, thought 
of nothing but to save his bacon ! which he did by such 
extraordinary running and jumping, as threw us all into 
a most immoderate laugh. 

Presently up comes my black waiter, Billy, with a 
broad grin on his face, and says, "Why, master, them 
militia men there, sir, are tarnal fools ; they do not know 
nothing at all about stealing. But if you will please, 
sir, to let me try my hand, I can fetch off that hogshead 
there, mighty easy, sir." 

"No, no, Billy!" said I, shaking my head, "that 
will never do, my lad. I value you much too highly, 
Billy, to let you be knocked on the head, so foolishly as 
all that comes to." 

"Lord bless you, sir," replied he, smiling, "there is 
no more danger in it, than in eating when a body is 
hungry. And if you will only please let me try my 
hand, sir, if you see any danger, why, then, master, you 
may call me back, you know, sir." 

Upon this he started. Fortunately for him, our 
riflemen, seeing what he was after, made a noble diver- 
sion in his favor, by throwing a galling fire into the fort. 
On getting within thirty yards of the hogshead, he fell 
flat on his face, and dragged himself along on his belly 
until he reached it. Then seizing the hogshead with a 
nand on each chine he worked it backwards and back- 
wards, like an alligator pulling a dog into the river, until 



GEiV. FRANCIS MARION. 267 

he had fairly rolled his prize to the brink of the hill 
where, giving it a sudden jerk by way of a start, and at 
the same time jumping up, he ran with all his might 
down the precipice, the hogshead hard after him, and 
was soon out of all danger. Numbers of shots were 
fired after him, but not one touched him, which gave 
great joy to our encampment, who were all anxious 
spectators of the transaction, and seemed to take a deep 
interest in Billy's success. And no wonder ; for he was 
a most noble-hearted fellow, and exceedingly useful in 
camp. Officers or soldiers, cadets or colonels, no matter 
who they were, that asked Billy a favor, they were sure 
to have it done for them ; and with such a cheerful air, 
as did them more good than the service itself. So that 
I much question, whether there was a man in all our 
camp, whose good luck would have given more general 
satisfaction than his. 

On opening Bill's hogshead, which indeed was no 
hogshead, but rather a puncheon, as big as two hogs- 
heads, there was a prodigious stare among our men at 
the sight of so much wealth, — 

100 strong white shirts for soldiers, 
50 fine do. do. for officers, 
50 camp blankets, 

100 black stocks, 

100 knapsacks, and 
6 dragoons cloaks, 
were the valuable contents of Billy's cask. The na- 
tive genius of the poor fellow instantly broke out in 
a stream of generous actions, which never stopped, 
until the hogshead was completely emptied. First of 



268 THE LIFE OF 

all he began with me, to whom he presented half a 
dozen of the fine shirts and black stocks, with a dra- 
goon's cloak. Then to the general he made a present, 
also to the officers of his family. To his fellow-ser- 
vants, who messed with him, he gave two shirts 
apiece. But what pleased me most in Billy's dona- 
tions, was his generosity to the two men who had 
miscarried in their attempt on the same cask. Seeing 
that they were much mortified at their own failure, 
and a little perhaps at his success, he desired them to 
come and help themselves to what they liked. Hear- 
ing him then express a wish that he knew what to do 
with the balance, I told him that many of our dragoons 
were poor men, and much in want of shirts. "Aye, 
sure enough," said he, and immediately handed them 
out a shirt apiece, until all were gone. 

For this generosit} of Billy's, General Marion dub- 
bed him " Captain Billy,' a name which he went by 
ever afterwards. Nothing was ever more seasonable 
than this supply, purchased by Billy's valor; for be- 
fore that, we were all as ragged as young rooks. 
There was not an officer in camp, except Colonel Lee 
and his staff, who was so rich as to own two shirts. 
1 am very sure that Marion's aids had but one 
apiece. And yet so independent of wealth is cheer- 
fulness, that I have often seen our officers in their 
naked buffs, near a branch, singing and dancing 
around their shirts, which they had just washed, and 
hung on the bushes to dry. 

From the reduction of fort Watson, we set out im- 
mediately in high spirits, for the still nobler attack 



GEA'. FRAXCIS MARION. 



269 



on fort Motte. For the sake of fine air, and water 
and handsome accommodations, the British had erect- 
ed this fort in the yard of Mrs. Motte's elegant new 
house, which was nearly enclosed in their works. But 
alas ! so little do poor mortals . know what they are 
about ! the fine house, which they had rudely taken 
from poor Mrs. Motte, proved to the British, what 
his gay shirt did to Hercules. It wrought their down- 
fall. For, after a fierce contest, in which many vain- 
able lives were lost on both sides, through the sharp- 
shooting of the yaugers, and the still closer cutting of 
our riflemen, it struck Marion that he could quickly 
drive the enemy out of the fort, by setting the house 
on fire. But poor Mrs. Motte ! a lone widow, whose 
plantation had been so long ravaged by war, her- 
self turned into a log cabin, her negroes dispersed, 
and her stock, grain, etc., nearly all ruined ! must she 
now lose her elegant buildings too } Such scruples 
were honorable to the general ; but they showed his 
total unacquaintedness with the excellent widow. For 
at the first ghmpse of the proposition, she exclaimed, 
** O ! burn it, burn it. General Marion ! God forbid I 
should bestow a single thought on my little concerns, 
when the independence of my country is at stake. 
No sir, if it were a palace it should go." She then 
stepped to her closet and brought out a curious bow 
with a quiver of arrows, which a poor African boy 
purchased from on board a Guineaman, had formerly 
presented her, and said, " Here, general, here is what 
will serve your purpose to a hair." The arrows, 
poin ed with iron, and charged with lighted combus- 



270 



THE L/FE OF 



tibles, were shot on top of the house, to which they 
stuck, and quickly communicated the flames. The 
British, two hundred in number, besides a good many 
tories, instantly hung out a white fla'g in sign of sub- 
mission. 

The excellent Mrs. Motte was present when her 
fine new house, supposed to be worth six thousand 
dollars, took fire ; and without a sigh, beheld the red 
spiry billows prevailing over all its grandeur. 

The day after the destruction of her house, she 
invited General Marion with all the officers, British 
as well as American, to dine with her. Having now 
no better place of accommodation, she entertained 
us under a large arbor built in front of her log cabin, 
where, with great pleasure, I observed that the same 
lady could one day act the Spartan, and the next the 
Parisian : thus uniting in herself, the rare qualities 
of the heroine and the Christian. For my life I could 
not keep my eyes from her. To think what an irre- 
parable injury these officers had done her; and yet 
to see her, regardless of her own appetite, selecting 
the choicest pieces of the dish, and helping them with 
the endearing air of a sister appeared to me one of 
the loveliest spectacles I had ever beheld. It produced 
the happiest effect on us all. Catching her amiable 
spirit, we seemed to have entirely forgotten our past 
animosities ; and Britons and Americans mingled to- 
gether, in smiles and cheerful chat, Hke brothers. T 
do not recollect a transaction in the whole war, in 
which I can think that God looked down with higher 
complacency than on this. And to the day of my death, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



271 



I shall believe, that God enabled us to beat the British 
in arms, because we had so far beaten them in gener- 
osity Men, who under such cruel provocations, could 
display such moderation as we did, must certainly have 
given our Maker good hope, that we were equal to the 
glorious business of self-government ; or in other words, 
of living under a republic, which must certainly be his 
delight, because both implying and producing more 
wisdom and virtue, than any other government among 
men. 

The name of the British commandant, our prisoner, 
was Ferguson ; and a very pleasant gentleman he was 
too, as I found on getting acquainted with him, which 
I soon did. After talking over our various adventures 
in the war, he asked me if I did not command the 
ca\^lry, in the late skirmishing between Watson and 
Marion. I told him I did. " Well," replied he, "you 
made a very lucky escape that day ; for do you know 
that we were twelve hundred strong, owing to Colonel 
Small's joining us in the march } " 

" Then truly," said I, " if that were the case, I 
made a lucky escape, sure enough." 

" And where were you," he asked again, " when 
■ General Marion so completely surprised our guard at 
Nelson^s old fields : were you there } " 

I told him I was not, but that my brother, Hugh 
Horry, was. 

'' Well," continued he, laughing heartily, " that was 
my lucky day. I had a command there that morning 
of about thirty men, as an advance. We had not left 
the guard more than five minutes before the American 



272 



THE LIFE OF 



charged and swept all. The moment we heard the 
firing and the cries of our people, we squatted in the 
high grass like so many rabbits, then running on the 
stoop, till we gained the woods, we cleared ourselves." 
I laughed, and asked how many men he supposed Mar- 
ion had that morning." 

He replied, he really did not know, but supposed he 
must have had three or four hundred. 

"Well, sir," said I, " he had exactly thirty." 

The reader may perhaps conceive Ferguson's aston- 
ishment : I cannot describe it. 

Soon as the dishes were removed, we were present- 
ed with a spectacle to which our eyes had long been 
strangers, a brave parade of excellent wine ; several 
hampers of which had been received at the fort the 
very day before we commenced the attack. To poor 
soldiers like us. who, for years, had hardly quenched 
our thirst on anything better than water or apple- 
brandy grog, this was a sight immensely refreshing. 
Whether it was owing to the virtues of this noble cor- 
dial, with the recollection of our late glorious vic- 
tories ; or whether it was the happy result of our gene- 
rosity to the enemy, and of their correspondent polite- 
ness to us, I do not know ; but certain it is, we were all 
very gay. But in the midst of our enjovments, which 
none seemed to relish with a higher glee than General 
Marion, a British soldier came up and whispered to one 
of their officers, who instantly coming round to the 
general told him in a low voice, that the Americans 
were hanging the tories who had been taken in the 
fort ! 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 



273 



In a moment he sprang up, in a violent passion, and 
snatching his sword, ran down towards our encampment. 
We all followed him, though without knowing the 
cause. On turning the corner of the garden which had 
concealed their cruel deeds, we discovered a sight most 
shocking to humanity, a poor man hanging in the air to 
the beam of a gate, and struggling hard in the agonies 
of death. " Cut him down ! cut him down ! " cried the 
general, as soon as he had got near enough to be heard, 
which was instantly done. Then running up, with 
cheeks, as red as fire coals, and half choked with rage, 
he bawled out, " In the name of God ! what are you about, 
what are you about here ! " 

" Only hanging a few tories, sir," replied Captain 
Harrison of Lee's legion. 

" Who gave you a right, sir, to touch the tories } " 

To this, young M'Corde, of the same corps, replied, 
that it was only three or four rascals of them that they 
meant to hang ; and that they had not supposed the 
general would mind that. 

" What ! not mind murdering the prisoners. Why, 
my God ! what do you take me to be "i do you take me 
for a devil .? " 

Then, after placing a guard over the tories, and 
vowing to make an example of the first man who should 
dare to offer them violence, he returned with the com- 
pany to Mrs. Motte's table. 

Of the three unfortunate tories that were hung dead, one 
was named Hugh Mizcally. The name of the person, 
so timely cut down was Levi Smith, a most furious tory. 

This title produced him such respect among those 



274 "^^^ ^^^^ OF 

degenerate Britons, that they appointed him gatekeeper ol 
Charleston, a circumstance that operated much against 
the poor whigs in the country. For Smith soon broke 
up a pious kind of fraud, which the wives and daughters ^ 
of the tories had for some time carried on at a bold 
rate. 

To the immortal honor of the ladies of South Caro- 
lina, they were much more whiggishly given than the men, 
insomuch that though married to tories, they would be 
whigs still. 

These fair ladies, in consequence of their relation 
to, the tories, could, at pleasure, pass into Charleston, 
which they never left without bringing off quantities 
of broadcloth cut and jumped into petticoats, and art- 
fully hid under their gowns. The broadcloth, thus 
brought off, was for regimentals for our officers. Things 
went on swimmingly in this way for a long time, till 
Smith, getting one day more groggy and impudent than 
usual, swore that some young women who were going 
out at the gate, looked much bigger over the hips than they 
had need, and insisted on a search. The truth is, these 
fair patriots, preparing for a great wedding in the coun- 
try, had thus spoiled their shape, and brought themselves 
to all this disgrace by their over-greediness for finery. 
But Mr. Tory Smith affected to be so enraged by this 
trick, which the girls had attempted to play on him, that 
he would never afterwards suffer a woman to pass with 
out first pulling up her clothes'. 

He carried his zeal to such length, as one day very 
grossly to insult a genteel old lady, a Mrs. M'Corde. 

Her son, who was a dragoon in Lee's legion, swore 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. jyj 

vengeance against Smith, and would, as we have seen 
have taken his life, had not General Marion interposed. 

In the Charleston papers of that day, 1781, Smith 
gives the history of his escape from Marion, wherein 
he relates an anecdote, which, if it be true, and I see 
no reason to doubt it, shows clear enough that his tory- 
ism cost him dear. 

In his confinement at Motte's house, he was exces- 
sively uneasy. Well knowing that the whigs owed him 
no goodwill, and fearing that the next time they got a 
halter round his neck, he might find no Marion to take 
his part, he determined if possible to run off. The 
tories were all handcuffed two and two, and confined 
together under a sentinel, in what was called a bull-pen 
made of pine trees, cut down so judgmatically, as to 
form, by their fall, a pen or enclosure. It was Smith's 
fortune to have for his yoke-fellow a poor sickly creature 
of a tory, ivho, though hardly able to go high-low, was 
prevailed on to desert with him. They had not travelled 
far into the woods, before his sick companion, quite 
overcome with fatigue, declared he could go no farther, 
and presently fell down in a swoon. Confined by the 
handcuffs, Smith was obliged to lie by him in the woods, 
two days and nights, without meat or drink ! and his 
comrade frequently in convulsions ! On the third day 
he died. Unable to bear it any longer, Smith drew his 
knife and separated himself from the dead man, by cut- 
ting off his arm at the elbow, which he bore with him 
to Charleston. 

The British heartily congratulated his return, and 
restored him to his ancient honor of sitting, Mordecai- 



276 



THE LIFE OF 



like, at the king's gate, where, it is said, he behaved 
very decently ever afterwards. 

Smith's friends say of him, that in his own country 
(South Carolina) he hardly possessed money enough to 
buy a pig, but when he got to England, after the war, 
he made out as if the rebels had robbed him of as many 
flocks and herds as the wild Arabs did Job. The British 
government, remarkable for generosity to their friends in 
distress, gave him money enough to return to South 
Carolina with a pretty assortment of merchandise. 
And he is now, I am told, as wealthy as a Jew, and, 
which is more to his credit, as courteous as a Christian. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



277 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The author congratulates his dear country on her late glorious victories 
recapitulates British cruelties, drawing after them, judically, a succession 
of terrible overthrows. 

Happy Carolina ! I exclaimed, as our late victories 
passed over my delighted thoughts ; happy Carolina ! 
dear native country, hail ! long and dismal has been the 
night of thy affliction : but now rise and sing, for thy 
" light is breaking forth, and the dawn of thy redemp- 
tion is brightening around." 

For opposing the curses of slavery, thy noblest citi- 
zens have been branded as rebels, and treated with a 
barbarity unknown amongst civilized nations. They 
have been taken from their beds, and weeping families, 
and transported to pine and die in a land of strangers. 

They have been crowded into midsummer gaols and 
dungeons, * there, unpitied, to perish amidst suffocation 
and stench ; while their wives and children, in mournful 
groups around the walls, were asking with tears for 
their husbands and fathers ! 

They lave been wantonly murdered with swords 

♦ All Europe was filled with horror at the history of the one hundred 
and twenty unfortunate Englishmen that were suffocated in the black 
hole of Calcutta. Little was it thought that an English nobleman (Lord 
Rawdon) would soon have repeated that crime, by crowding one hundred 
and sixty-four unfortunate Americans into a small prison in Camden, in 
he dogdays. « 



278 



THE LIFE OF 



and bayonets, f or hung up like dogs to ignominious 

gibbets. 

They have been stirred up and exasperated against 
each other, to the most unnatural and bloody strifes. 
' " Fathers to kill their sons, and brothers to put brothers 
to death ! " 

Such were the deeds of Cornwallis and his officers 
in Carolina ! And while the churches in England were, 
everywhere, resounding with prayers to Almighty God, 
" to spare the effusion of human blood," those monsters 
were shedding it with the most savage wantonness I 
While all the good people in Britain were praying, day 
and night, for a speedy restoration of the former happy 
friendship between England and America, those wretches 
were taking the surest steps to drive all friendship from 
the American bosom, and to kindle the flames of ever- 
lasting hatred ! 

But, blessed be God, the tears of the widows and 

orphans have prevailed against them, and the righteous 

Judge of all the earth is rising up to make inquisition 

for the innocent blood which they have shed. And never 

was his hand more visibly displayed in the casting down 

of the wicked, than in humbling Cornwallis and his 

bloody crew. 

t A brother of that excellent man, Major Linning, of Charleston, was 
taken from his plantation on Ashley river, by one of the enemy's galleys, 
and thrust down into the hold. At night the officers began to drink and 
sing, and kept it up till twelve o'clock, when by way of frolic, they had 
him brought, though sick, into their cabin, held a court-martial over him, 
sentenced him to death, very deliberately executed the sentence by stab- 
bing him with baypnets, and then threw his mangled body into the river 
for the sharks and crabs to devour. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 279 

At this period, 1780, the western extremities were 
the only parts of the state that remained free. To 
swallow these up, Cornwallis sent Colonel Ferguson, a 
favorite officer, with fourteen hundred men. Hearing 
of the approach of the enemy, and of their horrible 
cruelties, the hardy mountaineers rose up as one man 
from Dan to Beersheba. They took their faithful rifles ; 
they mounted their horses ; and with each his bag of 
oats, and a scrap of victuals, they set forth to find the 
enemy. They had no plan, no general leader. The 
youth of each district, gathering around their own brave 
colonel, rushed to battle. But though seemingly blind 
and headlong as their own mountain streams, yet there 
was a hand unseen that guided their course. They all 
met, as by chance, near the King's mountain, where the 
ill-fated Ferguson encamped. Their numbers counted, 
made three thousand. That the work and victory may 
be seen to be of God, they sent back all but one thou- 
sand chosen men. 

A thousand men on mountains bred, 

With rifles all so bright, 
Who knew full well, in time of need, 

To aim their guns aright. 

At parting, the ruddy warriors shook hands with their 
returning friends, and sent their love. " Tell our fathers," 
said they, " that we shall think of them in the battle, 
and draw our sights the truer." 

Then led on by the brave Colonels Campbell, Cleve- 
land, Shelby, Sevier, and Williams, they ascended the 
hill and commenced the attack. Like Sinai of old, the 



28o THE LIFE OF 

top of the mountain was soon wrapped in smoke and 
flames ; the leaden deaths came whizzing from all 
quarters ; and in forty minutes Ferguson was slain, and 
the whole of his party killed, wounded or taken. 

To avenge this mortifying blow, Cornwallis despatched 
Colonel Tarleton with thirteen hundred and fifty picked 
troops, against Morgan, who had but nine hundred men, 
and these more than half militia. At the first onset, 
the militia fled, leaving Morgan with only four hundred 
to contend against thirteen hundred and fifty, rushing 
on furiously as to certain victory. What spectator of 
this scene must not have given up all for lost, and with 
tears resigned this little forlorn, to that unsparing 
slaughter which Colonel Tarleton delighted in } But, 
contrary to all human expectation, the devoted handful 
stood their ground and, in a short time, killed and cap- 
tured nearly the whole of their proud assailants ! 

Raging like a wounded tiger, Cornwallis destroys all 
his heavy baggage, and pushes hard after Morgan. 
The pursuit is urged with unimaginable fury : and Corn- 
wallis gains so fast upon the Americans, encumbered 
with their prisoners, that on the evening of the ninth 
day he came up to the banks of the Catawba, just as 
Morgan's rear had crossed at a deep ford. Before the 
wished-for morning returned, the river was so swollen 
by a heavy rain, that Cornwallis could not pass. Ador- 
ing the hand of Heaven, the Americans continued their 
flight. On the morning of the third day, Cornwallis 
renewed the pursuit with redoubled fury, and by the 
ninth evening, came up to the Yadkin, just as Morgan's 



GEN. FRAiYClS MARION. 281 

last rifle corps was about to take the ford. Presently 
the rain came rushing down in torrents, and by the 
morning light the furious river was impassable ! Who 
so blind as not to acknowledge the hand of God in all 
this ? 

Soon as he could get over, the wrathful Cornwallis 
renewed the pursuit ; but before he could overtake them 
at Guildford court-house, the Americans, joined by their 
countrymen, gave him battle, and killed one third of his 
army. Cornwallis then, in turn, fled before the Ameri- 
cans ; and as he had outmarched them betore, he out- 
ran them now, and escaped safely to Wilmington. With 
largely recruited force he returned to Virginia, where 
four hundred deluded men, (tories) under Colonel Pyles, 
came forward to join him. On their way they fell in 
with Colonel Lee and his legion. Mistaking them for 
Tarleton and his cavalry, they wave their hats and cry 
out, " God save the king ! God save the king ! " Lee en- 
courages the mistake, until they are all intermixed with 
his dragoons, who at a signal given, draw their swords 
and hew the wretches to pieces. Only one hundred 
make their escape. These fall in, the next day, with 
Colonel Tarleton, who, mistaking them for what he called 
" damned rebels," ordered his troops to charge, which 
they did ; and regardless of their repeated cries, that 
" they were the king's best friends," put most of them 
to death. 

Thus wonderfully did God baffle Lord Cornwallis, 
and visit a sudden and bloody destruction upon those 
unnatural wretches, who were going forth to plunge 
their swords into the bowels of their own country. 



282 THE LIFE OF 

After this, being joined by all the British troops in 
that quarter, he rolled on like an angry flood to Williams- 
burgh and York, where God sent his servant Washing- 
ton, who presently captured him and his fleet and army, 
near ten thousand strong. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 283 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

The British evacuate Charleston — great joy of the citizens — patriotism 
of the Charleston ladies. 

As when a lion that has long kept at bay the fierce 
assaulting shepherds, receives at last his mortal wound, 
suddenly the monster trembles under the deadly stroke ; 
and, sadly howling, looks around with wistful eye to- 
wards his native woods. Such was the shock given to 
the British, when the sword of heaven-aided justice 
struck down the bloody Cornwallis. With him fell the 
hopes of the enemy throughout our state. 

In Charleston, their officers were seen standing to- 
gether in groups, shaking their heads as they talked 
of the dreadful news. While those who had marched 
up so boldly into the country, now panic-struck, were 
everywhere busied in demolishing their works, blow- 
ing up their magazines, and hurrying back to town in 
the utmost dismay. Hard pressing upon the rear, 
we followed the steps of their flight, joyfully chasing 
them from a country which they had stained with 
blood, and pursuing them to the very gates of Charles- 
ton. As we approached the city, our eyes were pre- 
sented with scenes of desolation sufficient to damp all 
hearts, and to inspire the deepest sense of the horrors 



2 8 4- ^^^^ LTFE OF 

of war. Robbed of all animal and vegetable life, the 
neighboring plantations seemed but as dreary deserts, 
compared with what they once were, when, covered 
with sportive flocks and herds, and rice and corn, they 
smiled with plenteousness and joy. In the fields, the 
eyes beheld no sign of cheerful crops, nor in the woods 
any shape of living beast or bird, except a few mournful 
buzzards, silently devouring the unburied flesh of some 
poor wretched mortals, who had fallen in the late ren- 
contres between the English and Americans. Indeed,had 
those days continued, no flesh could have been saved ; 
but blessed be God, who shortened them, by chastising 
the aggressors (the British) as we have seen. 

On the memorable 14th of December, 1782, we en- 
tered and took possession of our capital, after it had 
been two years, seven months, and two days in the 
hands of the enemy. The style of our entry was quite 
novel and romantic. On condition of not being mo- 
lested while embarking, the British had offered to leave 
the town unhurt. Accordingly, at the firing of a signal 
gun in the morning, as agreed on, they quitted their ad- 
vanced works, near the town gate, while the Americans, 
moving on close in the rear, followed them all along 
through the city down to the water's edge, where they 
embarked on board their three hundred ships, which, 
moored out in the bay in the shape of an immense half 
moon, presented a most magnificent appearance. 

The morning was as lovely as pure wintry air and 
cloudless sunbeams could render it ; but rendered far 
lovelier still by our procession, if I may so call it, which 
was well calculated to awaken the most pleasurable 



GEN. FRANCIS MAR /ON 



285 



feelin s. In front, were the humble remains of that 
proud army, which, one and thirty months ago, captured 
our city, and thence, in the drunkenness of victory had 
hurled menaces and cruelties disgraceful to the British 
name. And close in the rear, was our band of patriots, 
bending forward with martial music and flying colors, to 
play the last joyful act in the drama of their country's 
deliverance ; to proclaim liberty to the captive ; to re- 
call the smile on the cheek of sorrow ; and to make the 
heart of the widow leap for joy. Numbers, who, for 
years, had been confined to a single room in their own 
elegant houses, could now throw open their long-locked 
doors, and breathe and walk at large in these beloved 
apartments, from which they had been so long excluded. 
Numbers, who, for years, had mourned their separation 
from children, wives, and sires, were now seen rushing, 
with trembling joy, to the long-coveted embrace. Oh!, 
it was a day of jubilee indeed ! a day of rejoicing never 
to be forgotten. Smiles and tears were on every face. 
For who could remain unmoved, when they saw the 
little children running with outstretched arms to em- 
brace their long absent fathers ; when they saw the 
aged, trembling with years and affection, clasping their 
warrior sons, glorious in arms, and those sons, with 
pleasure-sparkling eyes, returning the pious embrace 
and congratulating the deliverance of their fathers ; 
while all along the streets, as we moved in clouds of joy- 
rolling dust, nothing was to be heard but shouts of, 
" Liberty and America forever ; " and nothing was to be 
seen but crowds of citizens shaking hands and thanking 
God for bringing them to see that happy day. And to 



286 THE LIFE OF 

crown all, on both sides of us, as we marched in shining 
rows, stood our beauteous countrywomen, mingling their 
congratulations. The day was precious to all, but none 
I believe enjoyed it so highly as did the ladies of 
Charlestown. Being, great numbers of them at least, 
women of fortune and liberal education, they had early 
discovered the deformity of Lord North's enslaving 
principles, "unconditional taxation," which they ab- 
horred worse than the yaws ; and hating the measure, 
they could not but dislike, the men who were come to 
fiexecute it. In common with their sex, they were suf- 
ciently partial to soldiers of honor. But alas ! they 
were not permitted the pleasure to contemplate the 
British in that prepossessing light. On the contrary, 
compelled to view them as mere fighting machines, 
venal wretches, who for pay and plunder, had degraded 
the man into the brute, the Briton into the buccaneer, 
how could they otherwise than detest them } 

Nor were the manners of the British officers at all 
calculated to remove those antipathies. Coming to 
America, under the impression that the past generation 
were convicts, and the present rebels, they looked on 
and treated their daughters only as pretty Creoles, whom 
it was doing great honor to smile on ! 

But this prejudice against the British officers, 
founded first on their sordidness, then, secondly, fed by 
their insolence, was, thirdly and lastly, matured by their 
cruelty. To see the heads of their first families, with- 
out even a charge of crime, dragged from their beds at 
midnight, and packed off like slaves to St. Augustine; 
to see one of their most esteemed countrymen the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 287 

amiable Colonel Haynes, hung up like a dog before their 
eyes ; and to hear continually, from all parts, of the 
horrid house-burnings aj»d murders committed by Raw- 
don, Tarleton, Weymies, and their tory and negro allies, 
filled up the measure of female detestation of the British 
officers. They scorned to be seen in the same public 
walks with them ; would not touch a glove or snuffbox 
from their hands ; and in short, turned away from them 
as from the commonest felons or cutthroats. And on 
the other hand, to be treated thus by buckskin girls, the 
rebel daughters of convict parents, was more than the 
British officers could put up with. The whig ladies, of 
course were often insulted, and that very grossly too • 
and not only often threatened, but actually thrown into 
the provost or bastile. No wonder then that they were 
highly delighted to see such rude enemies, after repeated 
overthrows in the country, chased back to town, and 
thenc-e, covered with disgrace, embarking to leave the 
country for ever. No wonder that on hearing of our 
line of march that morning, they had decked themselves 
in their richest habits, and at the first sound of our 
drums, flew to their doors, windows, and balconies to 
welcome our return. 

Never before had they appeared half so charming. 
Sweet are the flowers of the field at every season of the 
year, but doubly sweet, when, after long icy winter, they 
spread all the blossoms to the springtide sun. Even so 
the daughters of Charleston, though always fair, yet 
never seemed so passing fair as now, when after sus- 
taining the long wintry storms of British oppreesion* 
they came forth in all their patroit charms to greet the 



288 THE LIFE OF 

welcome beams of returning liberty. And never shall 
I forget the accents of those lovely lips, which, from be- 
hind their waving handkerchiefs, that but half concealed 
their angel blushes, exclaimed, "God bless you, gentle- 
men ! God bless you ! welcome ! welcome to your homes 
again ! " 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 289 



CHAPTER XXX 

Marion returns to his plantation — is appointed a member of the legisla- 
ture — some valuable anecdotes of him — his marriage — and retirement. 

After the retreat of the British from Carolina^ 
Marion sheathed his sword for Jack of argument, and 
went up to cultivate his little plantation in St. John's 
parish, where he was born. But the gratitude of his 
countrymen did not long allow him to enjoy the sweets 
of that rural life, of which he was uncommonly fond. 
At the next election, he was in some sort compelled to 
stand as a candidate for the legislature, to which, by an 
unanimous voice, he was sent to aid with his counsel, 
the operations of that government to whose freedom his 
sword had so largely contributed. The friends of 
humanity were all highly pleased with his call to the 
legislature. From his well known generosity to his 
enemies, during the war, they fondly hoped he would 
do everything in his power to extinguish that horrid 
flame of revenge, which still glowed in the bosom of 
many against the tories. Nor did Marion disappoint 
their hopes. His face was always, and undauntedly, set 
against every proposition that savored of severity to the 
tories, whom he used to call his " poor deluded country- 
men." The readers may form some idea of General 

19 



290 THE LIFE OF 

Marion from the following anecdote, which was related 
to me by the Honorable Benjamin Huger, Esq. 

During the furious contests in South Carolina, be- 
tween the British and Americans, it was very common 
for men of property to play jack of both sides, for the 
sake of saving their negroes and cattle. Among these, 
a pretty numerous crew, was a wealthy old blade, who 
had the advantage of one of those very accommodating 
faces, that could shine with equal lustre on his victorious 
visitants, whether Britons or buckskins. Marion soon 
found him out ; and as soon gave him a broad hint how 
heartily he despised smch trimming ; for at a great public 
meeting where the old gentleman, with a smirking face, 
came up and presented his hand, Marion turned from 
him without deigning to receive it. Everybody was 
surprised at this conduct of the general, and some spoke 
of it in terms of high displeasure. However, it was not 
long before they caught the old weathercock at one of 
his tricks, and, soon as the confiscation act was passed, 
had him down on the black list, fondly hoping, no doubt 
to divide a large spoil. Marion, who was then a mem- 
ber of the legislature, arose to speak. The aged culprit 
who also was present, turned pale and trembled at the 
sight of Marion, giving up all for lost. But how great, 
how agreeable was his surprise, when instead of hearing 
the general thundering against him for judgment, he 
heard him imploring for mercy ! His accusers were, if 
possible, still more astonished. Having counted on 
General Marion as his firmest foe, they were utterly 
mortified to find him his fastest friend, and, venting 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ^91 

their passion with great freedom^ taxed him with incon- 
sistency and fickleness that but illy suited with General 
Marion's character. 

" It is scarcely eighteen months, sir," said they, 
" since you treated this old rascal with the most pointed 
and public contempt, on account of the very crime for 
which we wish to punish him. And here, now, instead 
of taking part against him, you have declared in his 
favor, and have become his warmest advocate with a 
legislature." 

" True, gentleman," replied Marion, "but you should 
remember that it was war then ; and therefore my duty 
to make a difference between the real and pretended 
friends of my country. But it is peace now, and we 
ought to remember the virtues of men, particularly of 
the old and timid, rather than their follies. And we 
ought to remember too, that God has given us the vic- 
tory, for which we owe him eternal gratitude. But 
cruelty to man is not the way to show our gratitude to 
heaven." 

Of the same complexion was his behavior in a large 
party at Governor Matthew's table, just after the pas- 
sage of the famous act to confiscate the estates of the 
torics. " Come, general, give us a toast," said the gov- 
ernor. The glasses were all filled, and the eyes of 
the company fixed upon the general, w^o, waving his 
bumper in the air, thus nobly called out, " We41, gen- 
tlemen, here's damnation to the confiscation act." 

The following anecdote of Marion I have heard from 
a thousand lips, and every time with that joy on the 



2^2 THE LIFE OF 

countenance, which evinced the deep interest which the 
heart takes in talking of things that are honorable to 
our countrymen. 

While Marion was a member of the legislature, a 
petition was presented to the house for an act of am 
nesty of all those arbitrary measures which the Ameri- 
can officers had been obliged to adopt during the war 
in order to get horses, provisions, etc., for the army. The 
petition was signed by the names of all the favorite 
officers of the state, and among the rest, by that of our 
hero. Some of his friends, it seemed, had done it for 
him, on the supposition that he needed such an act as 
well as the rest. But Marion, who had listened very 
attentively to the reading of the petition, on hearing his 
name mentioned as one of the subscribers, instantly 
arose, and insisted that his name should be struck off 
from that paper. He said, ''he had no manner of objec- 
tion to the petition ; on the contrary, he most heartily 
approved of it, and meant to vote for it ; for well did he 
know, he said, that during the war, we had among us 
a world of ignoramuses, who, for lack of knowing their 
danger, did not care a fig how the war went, but were 
sauntering about in the woods, popping at the squirrels, 
when they ought to have been in the field fighting the 
British ; that such gentlemen, since they did not choose 
to do anything for their country themselves, might well 
afford to let their cattle do something ; and as they had 
not shed any of their blood for the public service, they 
might certainly spare a little corn to it ; at any rate he 
had no notion, he said, of turning over to the mercy of 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2^3 

these poltroons, some of the choicest spirits of the 
nation, to be prosecuted and torn to pieces by them ; but 
that nevertheless, he did not like to have his name to 
the petition, for, thank God, he had no favors to ask of 
them. And if, during the war for his country, he had done 
any of them harm, there was he, and yonder his property 
and let them come forward, if they dare, and demand 
satisfaction." 

And I never heard of any man who ever accused him 
of the least injury done him during all the war. 

Marion continued a member of the legislature, until 
orders were issued to repair and put in commission Fort 
Johnson, to the command of which he was appointed, 
with the pay of about twenty-two hundred dollars per 
annum. Though this salary had been voted him chiefly 
because of his losses during the war, yet it was not con- 
tinued to him longer than two or three years, when it 
was reduced to less than five hundred dollars annually 
Numbers of the people had their feelings greatly hurt 
on this occasion, and, I dare say, much worse than his 
own. For he was a man who cared very little for money ; 
and besides, about that time he entered into matrimony 
with that excellent and wealthy lady, Miss Mary Videau, 
who, with her affections, bestowed on him a fortune 
sufficient to satisfy his utmost wishes, even though they 
had been far less moderate than they were. Seeing 
now no particular obligation on him to continue longer 
in the public service, he gladly yielded to his sense of 
what he owed to a generous and beloved companion, and 
with her, retired to his native parish of St. John's, where, 
amidst the benedictions of his countrymen and caresses 



^94 ^^^ ^I^^' OF 

of numerous friends, he spent the short remnant of his 
days, participating in every rural sweet with the dear 
woman of his choice, feasting on the happy retrospect 
of a life passed in fighting for the rights of man, and 
fondly cherishing the hopes of a better. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 



29s 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

The author's last visit to Marion — interesting conversation on the 
importance of public instruction — free schools shown to be a great 
saving to a nation. 

I OFTEN went to see Marion. Our evenings were 
passed as might have been expected between two old 
friends, who had spent their better days together in 
scenes of honorable enterprise and danger. On the 
night of the last visit I ever made him, observing that 
the clock was going for ten, I asked him if it were not 
near his hour of rest. 

" Oh no," said he, " we must not talk of bed yet. 
It is but seldom, you know, that we meet. And as this 
may be our last, let us take all we can of it in chat. 
What do you think of the times } " 

" O glorious times," said I. 

" Yes, thank God ! " replied he. " They are glorious 
times indeed ; and fully equal to all that we had in hope, 
when we drew our swords for independence. But I am 
afraid they won't last long." 

I asked him why he thought so. 

" Oh ! knowledge, sir," said he, " is wanting, knowl- 
edge is wanting ! Israel of old, you know, was destroyed 
for lack of knowledge ; and all nations, all individuals, 
have come to naught from the same cause," 



296 



THE LIFE OF 



I told him I thought we were too happy to change 
so soon. 

" Pshaw 1 " rephed he, " that is nothing to the pur- 
pose. Happiness signifies nothing, if it be not known, 
and properly valued. Satan, we are told, was once an 
angel of light, but for want of duly considering his 
glorious state, he rebelled and lost all. And how many 
hundreds of young Carolinians have we not known, 
whose fathers left them all the means of happiness , ele- 
gant estates, handsome wives, and, in short, every bless- 
ing that the most luxurious could desire } Yet they 
could not rest, until by drinking and gambling, they had 
fooled away their fortunes, parted from their wives, and 
rendered themselves the veriest beggars and blackguards 
on earth. 

" Now, why was all this, but for lack of knowledge ? 
For had those silly ones but known the evils of poverty, 
what a vile thing it was to wear a dirty shirt, a long bear^, 
and a ragged coat ; to go without a dinner, or to spunge 
for it among growling relations ; or to be bespattered, 
or run over in the streets, by the sons of those who were 
once their fathers' overseers ; I say, had those poor boo- 
bies, in the days of their prosperity, known these things 
as they now do, would they have squandered away the 
precious means of independence and pleasure, and have 
brought themselves to all this shame and sorrow } No, 
never, never, never. 

" And so it is, most exactly, with nations. If those 
that are free and happy, did but know their blessings, do 
you think they would ever exchange them for slavery } 
If the Carthaginians, for example, in the days of their 



t^BN. FRANCIS MARION. 297 

freedom and self-government, when they obeyed no laws 
but of their own making ; paid no taxes, but for their 
own benefit ; and, free as air, pursued their own interest 
as they liked ; I say, If that once glorious and happy 
people had known their blessings, would they have sacri- 
ficed them all, by their accursed factions, to the Romans, 
to be ruled, they and their children, with a rod of iron 
to be burdened like beasts, and crucified like malefactors ?" 

" No, surely they would not." 

" Well, now to bring this home to ourselves. We 
fought for self-government ; and God hath pleased to 
give us one, better calculated perhaps to protect our 
rights, to foster our virtues, to call forth our energies, 
and to advance our condition nearer to perfection and 
happiness, than any government that was ever framed 
under the sun." 

" But what signifies even this government, divine as 
it is, if it be not known and prized as it deserves ? " 

I asked him how he thought this was best to be 
done } 

*'' Why, certainly," replied he, " by free schools." 

I shook my head. 

He observed it, and asked me what T meant by that } 

I told him I was afraid the legislature would look to 
their popularity, and dread the expense. 

He exclaimed, " God preserve our legislature from 
such * penny wit and pound foolishness I ' What sir 
keep a nation in ignorance, rather than vote a little of 
their own money for education ! Only let such politi- 
cians remember, what poor Carolina has already lost 
through her ignorance. What was it that brought the 



29B THE LIFE OP 

British, last war, to Carolina, but her lack of knowledge? 
Had the people been enlightened, they would have been 
united ; and had they been united, they never would 
have been attacked a second time by the British. For 
after that drubbing they got from us at fort Moultrie, in 
1776, they would as soon have attacked the devil as 
have attacked Carolina again, had they not heard that 
they were 'a house divided against itself;' or in 
other words, had amongst us a great number of tories ; 
men, who, through mere ignorance, were disaffected to 
the cause of liberty, and ready to join the British against 
their own countrymen. Thus, ignorance begat toryism, 
and toryism begat losses in Carolina, of which few have 
any idea. 

" According to the best accounts, America spent in 
the last war, seventy millions of dollars, which, divided 
among the states according to their population, gives to 
Carolina about eight millions ; making, as the war lasted 
eight years, a million a year. Now, it is generally 
believed, the British, after their loss of Burgoyne and 
their fine northern army, would soon have given up 
the contest, had it not been for the foothold they got in 
Carolina, which protracted the war at least two years 
longer. And as this two years' ruinous war in Carolina 
was owing to the encouragement the enemy got there, 
and that encouragement to toryism, and that toryism to 
ignorance, ignorance may fairly be debited to two 
millions of loss to Carolina. 

- " Well, in these two extra years of tory-begotten war, 
Carolina lost, at least, four thousand men ; and among 
them, a Laurens, a Williams, a Campbell, a Haynes, and 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 299 

many others, whose worth not the gold of Ophir could 
value. But rated at the price at which the Prince of 
Hesse sold his people to George the Third, to shoot the 
Americans, say, thirty pounds sterling a head, or 
one hundred and fifty dollars, they make six hundred 
thousand dollars. Then count the twenty-five thousand 
slaves which Carolina certainly lost, and each slave at 
the moderate price of three hundred dollars, and yet 
have seven millions five hundred thousand. To this add 
the houses, barns, and stables that were burnt; the 
plate plundered ; the furniture lost ; the hogs, sheep and 
horned cattle killed ; the rice, corn, and other crops 
destroyed, and they amount, at the most moderate calcu- 
lation, to five millions. 

" Now, to say nothing of those losses, which cannot 
be rated at dollars and cents, such as the destruction of 
morals, and the distraction of childless parents and 
widows, Dut counting those only that are of the plainest 
calculations, such as, 

1st. Carolina's loss in the extra two) ^^ ^^^^^ 

, \ 52,000,000 

year s war, \ 

2d. For her four thousand citizens J 600000 

slain in that time, ) ' 

3d. For twenty-five thousand slaves) 7 coo 000 

4th. For buildings, furniture, cattle, | ^^^ ^^^ 

grain, etc., etc., destroyed, ) i)' > 

$ 15,100,000 

Making the enormous sum of fifteen millions and 
odd dollars capital ; and bearing an annual interest of 



3O0 



THE LIFE OF 



nearly ten hundred thousand dollars besides! and all 
this for lack of a few free schools, which would have 
cost the state a mere nothing." 

I sighed, and told him I wished he had not broached 
the subject, for it had made me very sad. 

" Yes," replied he, " it is enough to make any one. 
sad. But it cannot be helped but by a wiser course of 
things ; for, if people will not do what will make them 
happy, God will surely chastise them ; and this dreadful 
loss of public propertv is one token of his displeasure at 
our neglect of public instruction." 

I asked him if this was really his belief. " Yes, 
sir," replied he, with great earnestness, " it is my belief, 
and I would not exchange it for worlds. It is my firm 
belief, that every evil under the sun is of the nature 
of chastisement, and- appointed of the infinitely good 
Being for our benefit. When you see a youth, who, but 
lately, was the picture of bloom and manly beauty, now 
utterly withered and decayed ; his body bent ; his teeth 
dropping out ; his nose consumed ; with foetid breath, 
ichorous eyes, and his whole appearance most putrid, 
ghastly, and loathsome, you are filled with pity and 
horror ; you can hardly believe there is a God, or hardly 
refrain from charging him with cruelty. But, where 
folly raves, wisdom adores. In this awful scourge of 
lawless lust, wisdom discerns the infinite price which 
heaven sets on conjugal purity and love. In like man- 
ner the enormous sacrifice of public property, in the 
last war — being no more, as before observed, than the 
natural effect of public ignorance — ought to teach us 
that of all sins, there is none so hateful to God as na- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 



301 



tional ignorance, that unfailing spring of national ingrat 
itude, rebellion, slavery, and wretchedness! 

" But if it be melancholy to think of so many elegant 
houses, rich furniture, fat cattle, and precious crops, de- 
stroyed for want of that patriotism which a true knowl- 
edge of our interests would have inspired, then how much 
more melancholy to think of those torrents of precious 
blood that were shed, those cruel slaughters and massa- 
cres, that took place among the citizens from the same 
cause ! As proof that such hellish tragedies would never 
have been acted, had our state but been enlightened, 
only let us look at the people of New England. From 
Britain, their fathers had fled to America for religion's 
sake. Religion had taught them that God created men 
to be happy ; that to be happy they must have virtue ; 
that virtue is not to be attained without knowledge, nor 
knowledge without instruction, nor public instruction, 
without free schools, nor free schools without legislative 
order. 

" Among a people who fear God, the knowledge of 
duty is the same as doing it. Believing it to be the 
first command of God, * let there be light,* and believing 
it to be the will of God that * all should be instructed, 
from the least to the greatest/ these wise legislators at 
once set about public instruction. They did not ask, 
how will my constituents like this } won't they turn me 
out } shall I not lose my three dollars per day } No ! 
but fully persuaded that public instruction is God's will, 
because the people's good, they set about it like the 
true friends of the people. 

/*Now mark the happy consequence. When the 



392 THE LIFE OF 

war broke out, you heard of no division in New England ; 
no toryism, or any of its horrid effects ; no houses in 
flames, kindled by the hands of fellow-citizens ; no neigh- 
bors waylaying and shooting their neighbors, plundering 
their property, carrying off their stock, and aiding the 
British in the cursed work of American murder amd sub- 
jugation. But on the contrary, with minds well in- 
formed of their rights, and hearts glowing with love for 
themselves and posterity they rose up against the enemy, 
firm and united, as a band of shepherds against the 
ravening wolves. 

"And their valor in the field gave glorious proof 
how men will fight when they know that their all is at 
stake. See Major Pitcairn, on the memorable 19th of 
April, 1775, marching from Boston, with one thousand 
British regulars, to burn the American stores at Concord. 
Though this heroic excursion was commenced under 
cover of the night, the farmers soon took the alarm, and 
gathering around them with their fowling pieces, pres- 
ently knocked down one-fourth of their number, and 
caused the rest to run, as if, like the swine in the gospel, 
they had a legion of devils at their backs. 

" Now with sorrowful eyes, let us turn to our own 
state, where no pains were ever taken to enlighten the 
minds of the poor. There we have seen a people natur- 
ally as brave as the New Englanders, for mere lack of 
knowledge of their blessings possessed, of the dangers 
threatened, suffer Lord Cornwallis, with only sixteen 
hundred men, to chase General Green upwards of three 
hundred miles ! In fact, to scout him through the two 
great states of South and North Carolina as far as Guil^- 



gen: FRANCIS MARION. 303 

ford court-house ! and, when Green, joined at that place 
by two thousand poor ilUterate militia-men, determined 
at length to fight, what did he gain by them, with all 
their number, but disappointment and disgrace? For 
though posted very advantageously behind the corn- 
field fences, they could not stand a single fire from the 
British, but in spite of their officers, broke and fled like 
base-born slaves, leaving their loaded muskets sticking 
in the fence corners ! 

" But, from this shameful sight, turn again to the 
land of the free schools ; to Bunker's Hill. There, be- 
hind a poor ditch of half a night's raising, you behold 
fifteen hundred militia-men waiting the approach of three 
thousand British regulars with a heavy train of artillery ! 
With such odds against them, such fearful odds in 
numbers, discipline, arms, and martial fame, will they 
not shrink from the contest, and, like their southern 
friends, jump up and run ? Oh no ; to a man they have 
been taught to read ; to a man they have been instructed 
to know, and dearer than ]ife to prize, the blessings of 
freedom. Their bodies are lying behind ditches, but 
their thoughts are on the wing, darting through eternity. 
The warning voice of God still rings in their ears. The 
tiated forms of proud merciless- kings pass before their 
eyes. They look back to the days of old, and strengthen 
themselves as they think what their gallant forefathers 
dared for liberty and for them. They look forward 
to their own dear children, and yearn over the unoffending 
millions, in tearful eyes, looking up to them for protec- 
tion. And shall this infinite host of deathless beings, 
created in God's own image, and capable by virtue and 



3^4 



THE LIFE OF 



equal laws, of endless progress in glory and happiness J 
shall they be arrested in their high career, and from the 
freeborn sons of God, be degraded into the slaves of man ? 
Maddening at the accursed thought, they grasp their 
avenging firelocks, and drawing their sights along the 
death-charged tubes, they long for the coming up of the 
British thousands. Three times the British thousands 
came up ; and three times the dauntless yeomen, waiting 
their near approach, received them in storms of thunder 
and lightning that shivered their ranks, and heaped the 
field with their weltering carcasses. 

" In short, my dear sir, men will always fight for 
their government, according to their sense of its value. 
To value it aright, they must understand it. This they 
cannot do without education. And as a large portion 
of the citizens are poor, and can never attain that in- 
estimable blessing, without the aid of government, it is 
plainly the first duty of government to bestow it freely 
upon them. And the more perfect the government, the 
greater the duty to make it well known. Selfish and 
oppressive governments, indeed, as Christ observes, 
must " hate the light, and fear to come to it, because their 
deeds are evil." But a fair and cheap government, like 
our republic, " longs for the light, and rejoices to come to 
the light, that it may be manifested to be from God," 
and well worth all the vigilance and valor that an en- 
lightened nation can rally for its defence. And, God 
knows, a good government can hardly ever be half anx- 
ious enough to give its citizens a thorough knowledge of 
its own excellencies. For as some of the most valuable 
truths, for lack of careful promulgation, have been lost; 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



305 



So the best government on earth, if not duly known and 
prized, may be subverted. Ambitious demagogues will 
rise, and the people through ignorance, and love of 
change, will follow them. Vast armies will be formed, 
and bloody battles fought. And after desolating their 
country with all the horrors of civil war, the guilty sur- 
vivors will have to bend their necks to the iron yokes of 
some stern usurper, and like beasts of burden, to drag, 
unpitied, those galling chains which they have riveted 
upon themselves forever." 

This, as nearly as I can recollect, was the substance 
of the last dialogue I ever had with Marion. It was 
spoken with an emphasis which I shall never forget. 
Indeed he described the glorious action at Bunker's 
Hill, as though he had been one of the combatants. 
His agitation was great, his voice became altered and 
broken ; and his face kindled over with that living fire 
with which it was wont to burn, when he entered the 
battles of his country. I rose from my seat as he spoke; 
and on recovering from the magic of his tongue, found 
myself bending forward to the voice of my friend, and 
my right hand stretched by my side ; it was stretched 
to my side for the sword that was wont to burn in the 
presence of Marion, when battle rose, and the crowding 
foe was darkening around us. But thanks to God, 'twas 
sweet delusion all. No sword hung burning by my side ; 
no crowding foe darkened around us. In dust or in chains 
they had all vanished away, and bright in his scabbard 
rested the sword of peace, in my own pleasant halls on 
Winyaw bay. 

20 



3o6 ^^^ t'^^^ 0^ 



CHAPTER XXXIL 

The death of Marion — his character. 

" Next to "Washington, O glorious shade I 
In page historic shall thy name have place, 

Deep on thy country*s memory are portrayed 
Those gallant deeds which time shall ne'er erase. 

Ah I full of honors, and of years farewell I 

Thus o'er thy tomb shall Carolina sigh : 
Each tongue thy valor and thy worth shall tell, 

"Which taught the young to fight, the old to die/ 

The next morning, I set out for my plantation on 
Winyaw bay. Marion, as usual, accompanied me to my 
horse, and, at parting, begged I would come and see 
him again soon, for that he felt he had not long to stay. 
As the reader may suppose, I paid but little heed to 
this expression, which I looked on as no more than the 
common cant of the aged. But I soon had cause to 
remember it with sorrow. For I had been but a few 
weeks at home, before, opening a Charleston paper, I 
found in a mourning column, " The death of General 
Marion." Never shall I forget the heart-sickness of 
that moment ; never forget what I felt when first I 
learned that Marion was no more. Though the grave 
was between us, yet his beloved image seemed to ap- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



307 



pear v^fore me fresher than ever. All oui former 
frieu f nips, all out former wars returned. But alas ! he 
who was to me the soul of all the re t ; the foremost in 
every battle ; the dearest at every feast ; he shall return 
no more ! " Oh Marion, my friend ! " my bursting heart 
seemed to say, " and art thou gone .-* Shall 1 no more 
hear that voice which was always so sweet ; no more 
see that smile which awakened up such joy in my soul ! 
Must that beloved form be lost forever among the clods 
in the valley. And those godlike virtues, shall they 
pass away like the empty visions of the night ! " 

From thi deep gloom which strong atheistic sorrow 
had poured over my nerves, I was suddenly roused, as 
by an angel's touch, to the bright hopes of religion. 
The virtues of my departed friend all flashed at once 
upon my knidling thoughts : his countenance so stern 
with honor ; his tongue so sacred to truth ; that heart 
always so ready to meet death in defence of the injured ; 
that eye ever beaming benevolence to man, and that 
whole life so reverential of God.^ The remembrance, I 
say, of all these things, came in streams of joy to my 
heart. 

" O happy Marion ! " I exclaimed, " thou art safe 
my friend ; thou art safe. No tears of mine shall doubt 
thy blissful state. Surely if there be a God, and that 
there is all nature cries aloud, through all her works, 
he must delight in virtue, and what he delights in must 
be happy." 

Then it was, that I felt what a benefactor Marion 
had been to me. How dear his company while living ; 
how sweet his memory when dead, Like the sun trav- 



3o8 THE LIFE OF 

elling in brightness, his smiles had ever been my joy 
his example my light. And though now set in the grave - 
yet has he not left me in darkness. His virtues, like 
stars, are lighted up after him. They point my hopes 
to the path of glory ; and proclaim, that, though fallen, 
he is not extinguished. 

From the physicians and many others who attended 
him in his last illness, I learned that he had died as he 
had lived, a truly great man. His chamber was not, as 
is usual with dying persons, a scene of gloom and silent 
distress, but rather like the cheerful parlor of one who 
was setting out on an agreeable journey. "Some," said 
he, " have spoken of death as a leap in the dark ; but 
for my part, I look on it as a welcome resting-place, 
where virtuous old age may throw down his pains and 
aches, wipe off his old scores, and begin anew on an in- 
nocent and happy state that shall last for ever. What 
weakness to wish to live to such ghastly dotage, as to 
frighten the children, and make even the dogs to bark 
at us as we totter along the streets. Most certainly 
then, there is a time when, to a good man, death is a 
great mercy even to his body ; and as to his soul, why 
should he tremble about that.? Who can doubt that 
God created us to be happy ; and thereto made us to 
love one another } which is plainly written in our hearts 
whose every thought and work of love is happiness, arid 
as plainly written as the gospel ; whose every line 
breathes love, and every precept enjoins good works. 
Now, the man who has spent life in bravely denying 
himself every inclination that would make others miser- 
able, and in courageously doing all in his power to make 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 309 

them happy, what has such a man to fear from death, or 
rather, what glorious things has he not to hope from 
it ? " 

Hearing one of his friends say that the Methodists 
and the Baptists were progressing rapidly in some parts 
of the state, he replied, " Well, thank God for that ; 
that is good news." The same gentleman then asked 
which he thought was the best religion. " I know but 
one religion," he answered, " and that is hearty love of 
God and man. This is the only true religion; ani I 
would to God our country was full of it. For it . ^ the 
only spice to enbalm and to immortalize our republic. 
Any politician can sketch out a fine theory of govern- 
ment, but what is to bind the people to the practice .'* 
Archimedes used to mourn that though his mechanic 
powers were irresistible, yet he could never raise the 
world ; because he had no place in the heavens, whereon 
to fix his pulleys. Even so, our republic will never be 
raised above the shameful factions and miserable end of 
all other governments, until our citizens come to have 
their hearts like Archimedes' pulleys, fixed on heaven. 
The world sometimes makes such bids to ambition, that 
nothing but heaven can outbid her. The heart is some- 
times so embittered, that nothing but divine love can 
sweeten it ; so enraged, that devotion only can becalm 
it ; and so broke down, that it takes all the force of 
heavenly hope to raise it. In short, religion is the only 
sovereign and controlling power over man. Bound by 
that, the ruler will never usurp, nor the people rebel. 
The former will govern like fathers, and the latter obey 
like children. And thus moving on firm and united as 



310 THE LIFE OF 

a host of brothers, they will continue invincible as long 
as they continue virtuous." 

When he was near his end, seeing his lady weeping 
by his bedside, he gave her a look of great tenderness, 
and said, " My dear, weep not for me, I am not afraid to 
die ; for, thank God, I can lay my hand on my heart 
and say, that since I came to man's estate, I have never 
intentionally done wrong to any." 

These were nearly his last words, for shortly after 
uttering them, he closed his eyes in the sleep of death. 

Thus peaceful and happy was the end of General 
Francis Marion, of whom, as a partisan officer. General 
Greene has often been heard to say, that " the page of 
history never furnished his equal." And if any higher 
praise of Marion were necessary, it is to be found in the 
very remarkable resemblance between him and the 
great Washington. They both came forward, volunteers 
in the service of their country ; they both learned the 
military art in the hard and hazardous schools of Indian 
warfare ; they were both such true soldiers in vigilance, 
that no enemy could ever surprise them ; and so equal 
in undaunted valor, that nothing could ever dishearten 
them : while as to the still nobler virtues of patience, 
disinterestedness, self-government, severity to them- 
selves and generosity to their enemies, it is difficult to 
determine whether Marion or Washington most deserve 
our admxiration. And even in the lesser incidents of 
their lives, the resemblance between these two great 
men is closer than common. They were both born in 
the same year; both lost their fathers in early life; 



GEU. FRANCIS MARIO^. 



31J 



both married excellent and wealthy ladies ; both left 
widows ; and both died childless. 

The name of Marion continues dear to the people of 
the south ; and to this day, whenever his amiable widow 
rides through the country, she meets the most pleasing 
evidences, that her husband, though dead, is not for- 
gotten. The wealthy, everywhere, treat her with the 
respect due to a mother ; while the poor, gathering 
around her carriage, often press to shake hands with 
her, then looking at each other with a sigh they exclaim, 
" That's the widow of our glorious old 
Marion." 



LOVELL'S LIBRARY, 



In 16mo volumes, liandsomely bound in clotli, black and gold, 

50 cents eacli. 



By H. W. LONQ- 
By H. W. LONG- 



Hyperioru 

FELLOW. 

Outre-Mer. 

FELLOW. 

The Happy Boy, and Ame. 

By Bjoknstjekne Bjornson. 

Frankenstien ; or, The Mod- 
ern Promethiua. By Mrs. Makt 

WOLSTONECRAFT ShELLEY. 

Clytie. By Joseph Hatton. 

The Moonstone. By Wilkie 

Collins. 

The Coming" Race : or the 

New Utopia, and Leila: or the Siege 
of Granada. By Lord Lttton. 

The Three Spaniards. By 
George Walker. 

The Tricks of the Greeks Un- 
veiled. KOBERT HOUDIJf. 

Li' Abbe Constantin. By Lu- 

Dovic Halkvt, Author of "La Fille 
de Mme. Angot," etc. 

Freckles. By Rebecca Fergus 

Redcliff. a new original story. 

The Dark Colleen. By Mrs. 
Robert Buchanan. 

Seekers after God. By Rev. 
Cannon Farrar, D.D. 

The Green Mountain Boys. 
By Judge D. P. Thompson. 



Fleurette. By Eugene Scribe. 

Second Thoughts. By Rhoda 

Broughton. 
The New Magdalen. By Wil 

KiE Collins. 
Divorce. By Margaret Lee. 

Life of Washington. By Leon- 
ard Henley. 

Irene : or the Lonely Manor. 

By Carl Detlep. 
Vice Versa. By F. Axstey. 

John Halifax. By Miss Mu- 

LOCK. 

The Giant Baft. Part I., 800 
Leagues on the Amazon: Part II., 
The Cryptogram. By Jules Yerne. 

Life of Marion. By Horry 

and Weems. 
The Hermits. By Rey. Char- 
les KiNGSLEY. 

Duke of Kandos. By A. Mat- 

HET. 

East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry 
Wood. 

Jane Eyre. By Charlotte 

Bront6, 
Hypatia. By Rev. Charles 

Kingsley. 
Marriage in High Life. By 

Octa-st: Feuillet. 



New Yorli: JOHN W. LOVELL CO., 14 & 16 Vesey St 



Standard Histories. 



Charles Knig-lit's Popular History of England. The only complete 
Standard History of England. 

Library Edition. 8 volumes, 12mo, printed on fine paper, handsomely 
illustrated with full-page illuptrations, beautifully bound in cloth, 
gilt top, - - - $12 00 

Popular Edition. 4 volumes, 12mo, illustrated, printed on good paper, 

neatly and strongly bound, cloth, - - - - - 6 00 

Macaulay's History of Eng-land. The History of England from 

the Accession of James II. By Thomas Babington Macaulat. This 
is a new edition of this well-known standard work, printed from new 
electrotype plates, and is without doubt the best of the cheaper editions of 
the work published. 

5 volumes, 12mo, 600 pages each, cloth, '--■ * - - - $5 00 

RoUin's Ancient History. The Ancient History of the Egyptians, Carth- 
aginians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes and Persians, Grecians and 
Macedonians. By Charles Rollin. The type used is new, large, and 
clear, and very pleasant to read from. These editions are well printed, 
and very neatly bound, and, though cheaper in price, will be found equal, if 
not superior, to any other published. 

Popular Edition. 4 volumes, 12mo, neatly bound in cloth, beveled edges, $6 00 
4 " " " half calf, - - 12 00 

Library Edition. 4 volumes, 789 pages each, printed on extra superfine 

paper, bound in cloth, gilt top, - - - - - -8 00 

Soliraitz's Ancient History. A Manual of Ancient History from the Re- 
motest Times to the Overthrow of the Western Empire, A. D. 476. By Dr. 
Leonhard Schmitz, Ph.D., LL. D., F. R. S. E. With copious chronolog- 
ical tables. One handsome volume of 580 pages. New electrotype plates, 
from large, clear type, fine paper, handsomely bound in cloth, gilt, %1 25 

Taine's History of Eng-lish Literature. New edition, with all the 
author's and translator's last editions and corrections. This is an exact 
rep ''nt of the four-volume English edition, costing $10,00, and which con- 
tains many additions and corrections not found in previous editions. 

In one handsome 12mo volume of 730 pages, beautifully printed, cloth, gilt $1 25 

" " " half calf, 2 50 



G-oldsmith's Animated Nature. A History of the Earth and Ani- 
mated Nature. By Oliver Goldsmith, M. B. A new edition with 
corrections and alterations, in four volumes, 8vo, cloth, - - 6 00 

Macaulay's Essays and Poems. Critical and Miscellaneous Essays 
and Poems. Fine large type, new stereotype plates, printed on good 
paper, neatly bound, 3 vols., 12mo, 820 pp. each, cloth, gilt, - 3 75 

Addison and Steele's Spectator. Edited by A. Chalmers. Printed 
on thin opaque paper, with steel portrait of Addison, 8 vols, in 4, 
12mo, cloth, - - - . - . - - - 6 00 



New York: JOHN W. LOVELL CO., 14 & 16 Vesey St 



Best Editions of Popular 12mos. 



These are all printed from new plates, large, clear type, on good 
paper, very handsomely bound, black and gold, the publisher's 
aim being to make them the best and cheapest in tlie market. 

^i.oo A VOIvUMB. 



FIRST SERIES: 



Robinson Crusoe. 

Arabian Nights' Entertain- 
ment. 

Swiss Family Robinson. 
Children of the Abbey. 
Don Quixote. 

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pro- 
gress. 

Ivanhoe. 
Scottish Chiefs. 
Thaddeus of Warsaw. 
Last Days of Pompeii, 
Andersen's Fairy Tales, 



Tom Brown's School Days 
at Rugby. 

Grimm's Popular Tales. 

Paul and Virginia, Rasse- 
LAS and Vicar of Wake- 
field. 

Gulliver's Travels and 
Baron Munchausen. 

Chavasse's Advice to a Wife 
AND Mother. 

Dickens' Child's History of 
England. 

Willy Reilly. 

^sop's Fables. 



SECOND SERIES: 



Vanity Fair. 

The Mysterious Island — 
Jules Verne. 

20,000 Leagues Under the 
Sea — Jules Verne. 

Tour of the World in 80 

Days — Jules Verne. 
The Fur Country — Jules 

Verne. 
Five Weeks in a Balloon 

— Jules Verne. 
Last of the Mohicans — 

James Fenimore Cooper, 



Washington Irving's Sketch 

Book, 
Dickens-Collins Xmas 

Stories. 
Oliver Twist. 
Waverley. 
Red Gauntlet. 
Wilfred Cumbermede. 
The Parisians. 
Kenelm Chillingly, 
Clytie — Hatton, 
Mark Seaworth — Kingston. 



New York: JOHN W, LOVELL CO., 14 & 16 Vesey St. 



THE WAVERLEY NOVELS, 

By sir WALTER SCOTT, Bakt. 



LOVELL'S POPULAR ILLUSTRATED EDITIONS. 



Printed from large, clear type, new electrotype plates, tmiform in 
style with Dickens and Thackeray ; very handsomely illus- 
trated with full-pag-e engraving^, rignettes, head and tail 
pieces, &c. 

The text for these editions is from the latest revised Edinburgh 
edition (the celebrated Centenary Edition, published by 
A. & C. Black, Edinburgh), and contains many notes and 
last alterations by the author, not found in any edition printed 
in this country. * 



LIBRARY EDITION.— 24 Volumes. 



I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 



"Waterlet. 
Woodstock, 

QUENTIN DuRTVJlKD, 

Black Dwakf, and Old 
Mortality. 

Bride of Lammermoor, 
AND Legend of Mont- 
rose. 

Chronicles or the Canon- 
gate, &c. 
Vn. Kenilworth. 

St. Eonan's Well. 

Guy Mannering. 



V. 



VI. 



VIII 
IX. 



X. Anne of Geierstein. 



XI. EOE EOY. 
XII. Heart of Midlothian, 

XIII. IVANHOE. 

XIV. The Talisman. 
XV. The Abbot. 

XVI. The Monastery. 

XVII. Fortunes of Nigel. 

XVIII. Count Egbert of Paehs. 

XIX. Eedgauntlet. 

XX. The Pirate. 

XXI. Fair Maid of Perth. 

XXII. The Antiquary. 

XXIII. Peveril of the Peak. 

XXIV. The Betrothed, 



Library Edition.- 
neat. 



-24 volumes. 12mo. Cloth, gilt, very 



$30.00 



POPULAR EDITION.— 12 Volumes. 



II. 



ni. 



IV. 

V. 



Waverley. 
Woodstock, 
Black Dwarf. 
Old Mortality. 
q,ubntin durward. 
Bride of Lammermoor. 
Legend of Montrose. 
Chronicles of the Canon- 
gate. 
Kenilworth. 
St. Eonan's Well. 
Guy Mannering. 
Anne of Geierstein, 



VI. EOB EOY. 

Heart of Midlothian. 
vii. ivanhoe. 

The Talisman. 
VIII. The Abbot. 

The Monastery. 
IX. Fortunes op Nigel. 

Count Egbert of Paris. 
X. Eedgauntlet. 

The Pirate. 
XI. Fair Maid op Perth. 

The Antiquary. 

XII. Peveril op the Peaic. 

The Betrothed. 



13 volumes. 
12 



12mo. Cloth, gilt. 
Half calf, 



U8.00 
36.00 



CHARLES DICKENS' 

COMPLETE WORKS. 



LOVELL'S POPULAR ILLUSTRATED EDITION. 



This 13 an entirely new edition, printed from new electrotype 
plates, large, clear type, liandsomely illustrated, and bound 
in clotli, gilt. It contains all of Mr. Dickens' writings, as 
far as the publlslier lias been able to collect tliem ; and in this 
respect it is believed it will be found the most complete edition 
published. The beauty of the type and illustrations will com- 
mend it to all desiring a fine, and at the same time cheap edi- 
tion of Mr. Dickens's works. 

Price per volume, - - - - - - $1.50 

The set of 15 volumes, cloth, gilt, in neat paper box, - 22.50 

" 15 " half American Russia, - - 33.75 

" 15 " half calf, in neat paper box, - 45.00 



I. Pick-wick Papers, 800 pages. 

II. David Copperfield, 854 pages. 

III. Martin Chuzzlewit, 840 

pa2;es. 
rV^ Nicholas Nicklert, 831 pages, 
y. Bleak House, 8(5,'^ pages. 
YI. Little Dorhit. 8^32 pages. 
VII. DoMBEV AND Sox. 840 pages. 
Ylll. Our ]\[utuai. Friend, 832 
pa<res. 
IX. Oliver Twist, Pictures prom 
Italy\nd Ajieric an Notes, 
831 pages. 
X. Old CtnuosiTy Shop, and 
Hard Times, 833 pages. 



XI. Talb op Two Cities, and 
Sketches by Boz, 824 pages. 
XII. Barnaby Rudge, and Mys- 
tery OF Edwin Drood, 838 
pages. 
XIII. Great Expectations, Uncom:- 
siERciAL Traveller, and 
Miscellaneous, 831 pages. 
Xiy. Christmas Stories, and Re- 
printed Pieces, 840 pages. 
XV. Child's History of England, 
AND Miscellaneous, 831 
pages. 



*^'" The Child's History of England is also published 
separately iu one volume, 12mo., for the use of schools. Price $1. 



New York: JOHN'W. LOVELL CO., 14 & 16 Vesey St. 



THACKERAY'S COMPLETE WORKS. 



LOVELL'S POPULAR ILLUSTRATED EDITION. 



This is an entirely new edition of Mr. Thackeray's writings. It is 
beautifully printed from new electrotype plates, large, clear 
type, on fine paper, handsomely illustrated with over 200 full- 
page illustfations, and bound in cloth, gilt. 



PRICES. 

11 volumes, 12mo,, about 800 pages each, cloth, 
11 " " " " half calf. 



$16 50 
83 00 



I. VANITY FAIR. 
II. THE HISTORY OF PENDENNIS. 

III. THE NEWCOMES. 

IV. THE VIRGINIANS. 

V. THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP, to which ia prefixed A SHABBY 
GENTEEL STORY. 
VI. HENRY ESMOND, CATHARINE, DENNIS DUVAL, AND LOVEL 

THE WIDOWER. 
VII. PARIS, IRISH, AND EASTERN SKETCHES. 
VIII. BARRY LYNDON, GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND, ETC. : 
Barry Ltndon. I Sketches and Travels in London. 



Great Hoggartt Diamond. 



I Character Sketches. 
Men's Wives. 



IX. ROUNDABOUT PAPERS, THE FOUR GEORGES, ETC.: 



Roundabout Papers. 
The Four Georges. 
English Humorists. 



Second Funeral of Napoleon. 
Critical Reviews. 
Selections prom Punch. 



X. BURLESQUES, YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS, ETC. 



Novels bt Eminent Hands. 
Jeames's Story. 
Adventures of Major Gahagan. 
A Legend of the Rhine. 
Rebecca and Rowena. 
The History of the next French 
Revolution. 



Cox's Diary. 

Yellowplush Papers* 

Fitsboodle Papers. 

The Wolves and the Lamb. 

The Bedford Row Conspiracy. 

A Little Dinner at Timmins's. 

The Fatal Boots. 



Little Travels. 
XI. CHRISTMAS BOOKS, BOOK OF SNOBS, AND BALLADS.: 



Mrs. Perkins's Ball. 
Dr. Birch. 
Our Street. 



The Kickleburys on the Rhine. 
The Rose and the Ring. 
Book of Snobs. 
Ballads. 



New York: JOHN W, LOVELL CO., U & 16 Vesey St. 



LOVELUS LIBRARY, 



Under the title of " LoveU's Library; a Weekly Publication," the 
undersigned liave commenced the publication of all the best works in 
Current and Standard Literature. 

The Contents of each number will be taken more especially from the 
vast field of Fiction, including, besides all the Standard works, the best 
current Literature of the day ; the leading works in History, Biography, 
Travels and Belles Lettres will also be included. Subscribers can in this 
way obtain a most complete Library at an almost nominal cost. 

While the price will be the same as other cheap series, namely 10 
cents for single numbers and 20 cents for double numbers, with an occa- 
sional issue at 15 cents, it is believed that this issue will be found superor 
to anything heretofore attempted, especially in the following points : 

First. — The type will be larger and the print consequently clearer. 

Second. The size being the popular 12mo. will be found much more 
pleasant and convenient to handle. 

Third. — Each number will have a handsome paper cover ; and this, 
in connection with the size, will make it worthy of preservation. 



NUMBERS NOW READY 



Hyperion, by Longfellow, . . .20 
Outre-Mer, by Longfellow, . . .20 
The Happy Boy, by Bjornson . .10 

Arne, by BjOrnson 10 

Frankenstein, by Mrs. Shelley, .10 
The Last of the Mohicans, . . .20 
Clytie, by Joseph Hatton, . . .20 
The Moonstone, by Wilkie Col- 
lins. Part I, 10 

Do. Part II 10 

Oliver Twist, by Dickens, . . .20 
The Coming Eace : or the New 

Utopia, by Lord Lytton, . . .10 
Leila ; or the Siege of Granada, 

by Lord Lytton, 10 

The Three Suaniards, by George 

Walker, '. 20 

The Tricks of the Greeks L'nveil- 

ed, by Robert Houdin, ... .20 
L'Abbe Constantin, by Lndovic 
Halevy, Author of "La Fille 
de Muie. Angot." etc., ... .20 
Freckles, by Rebecca Fergns 
Redcliff. A new original 
story, ,....,... .20 
The Dark Colleen, by Mrs. Rob- 
ert Buchanan 20 

They Were INlarried! by Walter 

Besant and James Rice, . . .10 
Seekers after God, by Canon 

Farrar, D.D., 20 

The Spanish Xun, by Thos. Be 
Quincey, 10 



21 . The Green Mountain Boys, by 

Judge D. P. Thompson, . . .20 

22. Fleurette, by Eugene ocribe, . .20 

23. Second Thoughts, by Rhoda 

Brougliton 20 

24. The New Magdalen, by Wilkie 

Collins 20 

25. Divorce, by Margaret Lee, . . .30 
20. Life of Washington, by Leonard 

Henley 20 

27. SociarEtiquette, by Mrs. W. A. 

Saville, 15 

28. Single Heart and Double Face, 

by Chas. Reade, 10 

29. Irene : or the Lonely Manor, by 

Carl Detlef 20 

30. Vice Versa, by F. Anstey, . . .20 

31. Ernest Maltravers, by Lord 

Lvtton 20 

32. The Haunted House and Cal- 

deron the Courtier, by Lord 
Lytton, 

33. John Halifax, by Miss Mulock, 

34. 800 Leagues on the Amazon, by- 

Jules Verne 

35. The Cryptogram, by Jules Verne 

36. Life of Marion, by Horry and 

Vv'eems 

37. Paul and Virginia, 

38. Tale of Two Cities, by Charles 

Dickens 20 

30. The Hermits, by Rev. Charles 

Kingsley, 20 



.10 
.20 

.10 
.10 

.20 
.10 



Many of the above are also bound handsomely in cloth, gilt, price 
50 cents. Catalogue sent on application. 

JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 & 16 Vesey St, New York 



The success tliat has attended the publication of the Library so far, 
has encouraged the Publishers to announce two new series, which, should 
sufficient encouragement be accorded them, will be issued fortnightly for 
the present, and oftener as the demand warrants it. These will be enti- 
tled " The Sunday Series" and the " The Centennial Series " and will be 
distinguished from the regular issue by different colored covers. 

THE SUNDAY SERIES 

will contain choice works by Standard English and European writers, 
and in addition to foreign selections will, from time to time, include ser- 
mons, essays and stories, by prominent American preachers and Authors. 

A high standard of moral and literary excellence is set for this series, 
which, while containing only the best writings, books that will instruct, 
as well as fasten and hold the attention of readers, will also contain only 
the writings of authors charitably broad and thoroughly unsectariau. 

Among the first volumes in this Series, will be 

Robert Falconer,by Geo.Macdonald .20 
Hypatia, by Rev. Chas. Kingsley, . .20 
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, . .20 
The Pupils of St. John the Divine, 
by C. M. Yonge, 20 



SeekeriB after God, by Canon Farrar, 
D.D 20 

John Halifax Gentleman, by Miss 
Mulock, .,..-. .20 

The Hermits, by Eev. Chas. Kings- 
ley, 20 



THE CENTENNIAL SERIES 

will present three attractive features. 

Wirst. — Historical Monographs of important and picturesque events 
in American History ; from the settlement of the Colonies to the coming 
and concluding celebration at Newburgh, in 1883, with which this series 
will end. 

Second. — Short Biographies of the early Presidents, and of Revolu- 
tionary Heroes and Leaders. 

Third. — Choice specimens of early American Novels, particularly 
those which illustrate the revolutionary period, the settlement of the 
Colonies, and the rapid growth of the Country from Ocean to Ocean. In 
this revival will be introduced to American readers of to-day some charm- 
ing books which have been so long out of print that they are only to be 
found in tke libraries of careful collectors. 

Among the first numbers in this Series will be 



The Green Mountain Boys, by Judge 

D. P. Thompson, . , . . ,20 

The Spy. by J. Fenimore Cooper, ,20 

The Partisan, by Gilmore Simms, .20 



The Two Admirals, by Cooper, .20 
Life of Washington. Written espe- 
cially for this series, . . . .20 
Life of Marion, by Horry & Weems .20 



In addition to the paper edition all the 20 cent numbers, and many 
of the 10 cent numbers, two volumes in one, will be handsomely bound 
la cioth, gilt, price 50 cents a volume. 

JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 



H & Id Vesey St, New York. 



LOVELUS LIBRARY. 



Under the title of " LovelVa Libi'ary ; a Weeldy Puhlication," the 
undersigned have commenced the publication of all the best works in 
Current and Standard Literature. 

The Contents of each number will be taken more especially from the 
vast field of Fiction, including, besides all the Standard works, the best 
current Literature of the day ; the leading works in History, Biography, 
Travels and Belles Lettres will also be included. Subscribers can in this 
way obtain a most complete Library at an almost nominal cost. 

While the price will be the same as other clieap' series, namely 10 
cents for single numbers and 20 cents for double numbers, with an occa- 
sional issue at 15 cents, it is believed that this issue will be found superor 
to anything heretofore attempted, especially in the following points : 

First. — The type will be larger and the print consequently clearer. 

Second. The size being the popular 12mo. will be found much more 
pleasant and convenient to handle. 

Third. — Each number will have a handsome paper cover ; and this, 
in connection with the size, will make it worthy, of preservation. 



NUMBERS NOW READY 



Hyperion, by Longfellow, . . 

Outre-Mer, by Longfellow, . . 

The Happy Boy, by Bjuruson . 

Arne, by BjOmson, 

Frankenstein, by ^Mrs. Shelley, 

The Last of the Mohicans, . . 

Clytie, by Joseph Hatton, . . 

The Moonstone, by Wilkie Col- 
lins, Part I, '. 

Do. Part II, 

Oliver Twist, by Dickens, . . 

The Coming Eac*. : or the New 
Utopia, by Lord Lytton, . . 

Leila ; or the Siege of Granada, 
by Lord Lytton, 

The Three Spaniards, by George 
vv fliivGr, ••■■•••» 

The Tricks of the Greeks Unveil- 
ed, by Robert Houdin, '. . . 

L'Abbe Constantin, by Ludovic 
Halevy, Author of "La Fille 
de Mme. Angot," etc., . .- . 

Freckles, by Rebecca Fergus 
Redcliff. A new original 
storv 

Tlie Dark Coileen,' by Mrs'. Rob- 
^ ert Buchanan, ...... 

They Were Married ! by Walter 
Besant and James Rice, . . 

Seekers after God, by Canon 
Farrar, D.D., 

The iSpanish Nun, by Thos. De 
Quincey, .,..'.., . 



The Green Mountain Boys, by 

Judge D. P. Thompson, . . .20 
Fleurette, by Eugene Scribe, . .20 
SecoBd Thoughts, by Rhoda 

Broughton \ . . .20 

The New Magdalen, by Wilkie 

Collins, 20 

Divorce, by Margaret Lee, . . .20 
Life of Washington, by Leonard 

Henley, 20 

Social Etiquette, by Mrs. W. A. 

Saville,- 15 

Single Heart and Double Face, ^ 

by Chas. Reade, 10 

Irene : or the Lonely Manor, by 

Carl Detlef 20 

Vice Versa, by F. Anstey, . . .20 
Ernest Maltravers, by Lord 

Lytton 20r 

The Haunted House and Cal- 

deron the Courtier, by Lord 

Lytton, 10 

John Halifax, by Miss Mulock, .20 
800 Leagues on the Amazon, by- 
Jules Verne, 10 

The Cryptogram, by Jules Verne .10 
Life of Marion, by Horry and 

Weems, 20 

Paul and Virginia 10 

Tale of Two Cities, by Charles 

Dickens, 20 

The Hermits, by Rev. Charles 

Kingsley, 20 

Many of the above are also bound handsomely in cloth, gilt, price 
50 cents. Catalogue "sent on application. 

JOHN W. LOVELL.CO., Publishers, 

14 & 16 Vescij St, New York 



.20 


21 


20 




.10 


22 


.10 


23, 


.10 




20 


24, 


20 






25. 


10 


26. 


10 




.20 


27. 


10 


28. 


.10 


29. 


20 


30. 




31. 


20 






32. 


20 






33. 




34. 


20 • 






35. 


20 


36. 


10 


37. 




38. 


20 






39. 


10 





OBMER 



GRAND/ SQUARE AND UPRIGHT 

PIANOS. 



Co 



c2 










2. 

ft 



S 

s 



hJ^,Zl H ° ^""^ '"^ ^°"^' Durability and Work:t«anship ; 

M^ft !. ^^.^orsement of the leading Artists. First Medal of 

Merit and Diploma qf Honor at Centennial Exhibition. 

^usieal authorities and critics, prefer the SOHMER PIAKOS I 
and they are purchased by those possessing refined musical taste 

Sne^STr^nt^P^ian: ^^^^^^^ ^"^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^"^ ^^^^^^ P-^-^'^on ' 

SOHMER & CO., 

MANUFACTUREES OF 

Irand, Square mi UprigW Pianos, 

M9 to 155 EAST 14th ST.. NEW YORK. 





















> >■■> '••> ■' 

, -> ^^ -^ ^ ■ 
> ■> ^'^ : 

■ y.y ■■> ■ 









^^*>^^ 



i:»^^5Z»* 









■fer> ~:3»>^- 'Tr^i^. '~^'- ■-> i^ 

►2> ^>5:> ":>> ^:»» ^> ^^ ^5^ 
1> -^P'^^-^'-^^ ^* '" -■ 



■)> ^.. 















^ :^^ > 



5\^P 



8> -T>.i^:^8? 









5? ^^^ 






-^/^: 



^.'^ 



z^'i^: 



■^^^•i^ 






v«> 






